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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


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"  Js  ll)n  mime  illiuji,  maibcii  tair*? 
Such  sl)oulb,  mctljinks  its  music  be; 
®l)c  srocctcst  name  ll)iU  mortrtls  bear, 
U)ere  best  befitting  tl)ee." 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 


THE  UNIVERSAL   NAME 


OR 


ONE  HUNDRED  SONGS  TO  MARY 


SELECTED  AND  ARRANGED 


BY 


MRS.  E.  VALE  BLAKE 


BUFFALO 
CHARLES  WELLS  MOULTON 

1894 


Copyright,  1894, 
By  MRS.  E.  VALE  BLAKE. 


PrINTKD   by   ChARI.US   WeI.I.S   Mol'LTON,    Bl'H-ALO,    N.    Y. 


PaJ 
bdo 


^ 


TO 

MISS  MARY  C.  LOWELL 

OF  BROOKLYN,  N.   K, 

THESE    VERSES  ARE  AFFECTIONA  TEL  V 

INSCRIBED  BY  THE 

AUTHOR  AND    COMPILER. 


LIBRARY 


PREFACE. 

There  are  over  fifty  different  forms  of  the  name  of  Mary 
in  use  in  Europe;  many  of  these  are  derived  from  the  He- 
brew word  Miriam,  which  was  the  real  name,  of  she  whom 
we  call  Mary,  the  mother  of  Jesus.  The  Greeks  and  Latins 
translated  it  Maria,  the  French  Marie;  the  English  alone 
translated  it  Mary.  The  Slavonic  races  have  such  deriva- 
tives as  Marika.  In  western  Europe  we  have  the  variations 
of  Marion,  Marietta,  Sec. ;  the  returning  Crusaders  brought 
the  name  to  Spain,  France  and  Great  Britain.  It  found  a 
cordial  reception,  and  has  been  for  centuries  the  most  popu- 
lar name  in  Christendom,  including  the  United  States. 
Among  the  Latin  races  it  is  often  bestowed  on  male  children. 

There  have  been  more  poems  written,  addressed  to  Mary, 

than  any  other  name  known  to  literature.       Of  the  few  here 

collected  we  have  given  the  name  of  the  author  whenever 

that  was  known,  but  very  many  of  the  songs,  poems  and 

ballads  have  been  long  floating  round  the  world  without  any 

known  parentage;  any  deficiency  in  this  respect  we  should 

be  happy  to  supply  in  a  future  edition  if  the  authorshiji  can 

be  authenticated. 

E.  V.  B. 
Brooklyn,   N.  Y. 
1894. 


■.'  CONTENTS  '.■ 


PAGE. 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  .  13 

Heriry  Theodore  Tuckennan  14 

J.P.L 15 

J.  C.  Burnet  .        .        .  16 

Harper's  Magazine  .        .  18 

James  Whitcovib  Riley  ,  18 

Jahn  Greenleaf  Whittier  .  20 


L'INCONNUE     .... 

MARY 

MY  MARY  .... 

AVE  MARIA— EL  VAQUERO 

MARY 

OUT  TO  OLD  AUNT  MARY'S 
HOW  MARY  GREW 
THOUGHTS    OF  MARY    ON 

THE  POTOMAC     . 
AN  AMERICAN  AVE  MARIA 
MARY  PRESCOTT  . 
TO  LITTLE  MARY  L. 
WEE  MARIAN  R      .         .         . 
TO  MISS  MARY  C.       . 
I  DINNA  FIND  MY  MARY    . 

MY  MARY      ....  

MY  SWEET  AND  DELICATE 

MARIE Ed7uard  Willett 

THE  EMPIRE  OF  THE  MIND,  MARY 
PRETTY  MARY,  O  !        .        .     Benjamin  S.  Parker 
A'  FOR  MARY      .        .        .         William  Lyle 
MARION  MOORE     .        .        .    James  Gaylord  Clark 

MARY,  LIST!  AWAKE      .  

THE  MARIGOLDS 

TO  MARY,  THE  BLESSED  MOTHER 

TO  QUEEN  MARY  STUART     Williatn  Lyle     . 

QUEEN  MARY  OF  FOTHER- 

INGAY Magazine  Art 

QUEEN    MARY'S    ESCAPE     FROM     LOCHLEVEN 

CASTLE     


Edith  Lynn  Beers 
Thomas  William  Parsons 
Harriet  Prescott  Spofford 
E.  V.  Blake   . 
E.  V.  Blake 
E.  V.  Blake   . 
Jd)nes  JVhitcomb  Riley 


21 
23 
24 
25 
26 
26 
27 
29 

30 
31 
32 
33 
34 
36 
38 
40 
40 

42 
43 


viii  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

MARY 44 

MARY'S  WEDDING 46 

MARY'S  DREAM      .        .         .    John  Lowe         ...  47 
MARY— THE   ROSE  OF  AL- 
LENDALE     ....     Charles  Jeeffries.       .         .  49 
PRETTY  MARY    OF    LOCH 

DAN Sir  Samuel  Ferguson    .  50 

TO  MARY       ....         Lord  Byron       ...  52 
HEROD'S      LAMENT      FOR 

MARIAMNE        .        .        .        Hon.  George  Noel  Byron  54 

BLUE-EYED  MARY 55 

"O  MARY  CALL  THE  CAT- 
TLE HOME"          .         .         .     Charles  King sley       .        .  56 
A  DAY  DREAM  OF  MARY        Samuel  T.  Coleridge     .  5S 

MARY'S  TEAR 59 

THE  DEATH  OF  MARY    .         Charles  Wolff         .         .  60 
AN  EPITAPH  ON  MARY  DUCHESS  OF  NORTHUM- 
BERLAND      61 

TO  MARY  UNWIN  .        .        .     Wiliam  Coiupcr      .        .  62 

TO  MARY  DEPARTED 63 

HER  SMILE  I  SHALL  NEVER  FORGET    ...  64 

MARY'S  TRIBUTE  OF  TEARS 65 

DESPAIR  FOR  MARY 66 

MARY  WILL  SMILE  AGAIN 67 

MARY  CHUISLE      .         .         .      Tratis.   for  "  Pocls  and 

Poetry  of  Ireland''     .  68 
A  MONA.STIC  TRIBUTE   TO 

MARY Bishop  Eivlug  Translation  69 

MARIE  LAGHAC          .         .         Prof  John  Stuart  B lac kie  70 
THE    EMIGRANT'S     FARE- 
WELL TO  HIS  MARY         .     Lady  Duffcrin  .        .        .  73 
MAIRE  BHAN  A.STOR         .         Thomas  Dafis       .        .  75 
LOVELY  MARY  DONNELLY     William  Atlingham  .        .  76 

THE  FOUR  MARIES 78 

HIGHLAND  MARY                  .     Robert  Burns    ...  79 

AI'TCJN  WATI':R   .                            Robert  Horns          .         .  81 


CONTENTS. 


IX 


Robert  Burns 


IN- 


Robcrt  Burns 
Robert  Burns 

Robert  Burns 
Robert  Burns 


TO  MARY  IN  HEAVEN 

WILL  YE   GO  TO   THE 
DIES,  MY  MARY  ? 

MY  BONNIE  MARY     . 

WILL  YE  GO  TO  THE  HIGH- 
LANDS, MY  MARY  ?     . 

MARY  MORRISON       . 

THE  EMIGRANT'S  LETTER  TO  MARY 

AVE  MARIA  ....         Sir  Walter  Scott 

NORMAN'S  SONG  TO  MARY    Sir  Walter  Scott 

MY  MARY  DEAR 

MARY 

MARY  AT  THE  BURN  .         .     Robert  Craivford 

MARY  DHU  .         .         .         .         David  Macbeth  Moir 

MARY  OF  ARGYLL        .         .     Charles  Jeffries 

MY  AIN  MY  ARTLESS  MARY 

MARY Maria  D.  Ogiloy 

OUR  MARY 

BONNIE  MARY 

I'D  EVER  KEEP  MY  MARY    .... 

MARY 

LOVELY  MARY  

THE  BONNIE  BLINK  O'  MARY'S  E'E    . 

MARY  AND  ME,  or  THE  BRAES  O'  BEDLAY 

WINSOME  MARY  GRIEVE,  or  THE  WELLS  O'  WEARIE 

MARY  AND  THE  FAIRIES  .     Mary  Hozvitt     . 

MARY,   "THE  LASS  O'  ISLA  "       . 

ADIEU,  ADIEU  FOR  AYE  MARY     . 

MARY  STEEL 

THOU  KEN'ST  MARY  HAY   .... 

MARY  OF  SWEET  ABERFOYLE  . 

MARIE Alfred  De  Mussel 

A  FRENCH  SAILOR'S  ADIEU     From'' Music  of  the  Waters 
TO  MARIE  .  .  by  L.  A.  Smith 

TO  MARY  QUEEN  OF  SCOTS    Pierre  De  Ronsard 


PAGE 
82 

83 

85 

86 

87 
88 
90 

91 
92 

93 
95 
96 

98 

99 
100 

lOI 

103 
104 
106 
107 
108 
109 
no 

112 
116 
117 
119 
120 
121 
122 

123 
124 


CONTENTS. 


AN   ALLEGORY   ON   MARY 

QUEEN  OF  SCOTS  . 
ADIEU  DU  MARIE  STUART  . 
VERSES  FOR  THE  FETE  OF 

MARY Beranger 


Pierre  De  Chastelard 


G.  Lemoine    . 

Baralli 

Beranger. 

Friedrich  Schiller     . 

Friedrich  Schiller    . 
Karl  Simrock    . 
Luis  Ponce  De  Leon 
Trans,  by  Stevens 


MARIE'S  DREAM 

AN  AVOWAL   .... 

MARIE'S  LOVER  .       . 

MARY  STUART  IN  FOTHER- 
INGAY  PARK    . 

MORTIMER'S  INTERVIEW 
WITH  MARIA  STUART.     . 

O  MARY,  QUEEN  OF  MERCY 

MARIA'S  ASCENSION    . 

SPANISH  BALLAD      . 

FAIR  MARY 

'TIS  MARY  LEADS  MY  THOUGHTS  ASTRAY 

"BY  HER  NAME  I  HAVE 
CALLED  THEE"      . 

NATIONAL  RUSSIAN  SONG 
TO  MARY      .... 

MARY'S  EYES— or  THE  FOR- 
TUNE TELLER     . 

MARY  WASHINGTON 

HOMAGE  TO  MARY  WASH- 
INGTON .... 


Gintio  Carcans 


PAGE 

126 

.  128 

129 

•  131 
132 

.  133 

•  135 

.  136 

139 

.  140 

141 
.  142 

143 


Trans. by  Sir  John  Boivring     145 


George  Drosines 
E.  V.  Blake  . 


147 
148 


Mrs.  Lydia  H.  Sigourney     148 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

In  the  Christian  IVorhi,  Mary,  the  Garland  IVears. — Charles  Lamb. 
"  I  have  a  passion/or  the  name  of  Mary." — Lokd  Bvron. 

Jl/TAH  Y  is  sounding  in  our  ears, 

From  palace  and  from  cot; 
What  place,  of  high  or  loiv  degree 
Where  this  loved  name  is  not  ? 

We  read  it  oft  in  sacred  writ, 

This,  poets  inost  admire; 
We  see  it  oft  on  Historf  s  page. 

No  name  exalted  higher. 

And  Mary  s  name  we  love  it  still, 

In  palace  or  in  cot; 
It  makes  our  very  heart  strings  thrill, 

Who  is  there  loves  it  not  f 


L'INCONNUE. 

IS  thy  name  Mary  maiden  fair  ? 
Such  should  methinks  its  music  be; 
The  sweetest  name  that  mortals  bear 

Were  best  befitting  thee; 
And  she  to  whom  it  once  was  given, 
Was  half  of  earth  and  half  of  heaven. 

I  hear  thy  voice,  I  see  thy  smile, 

I  look  upon  thy  folded  hair; 
Ah!    while  we  dream  not  they  beguile. 

Our  hearts  are  in  the  snare; 
And  she  who  claims  a  wild  bird's  wing, 
Must  start  not  if  her  captive  sing. 

So  lady,  take  the  leaf  that  falls. 
To  all  but  thee  unseen,  unknown; 

When  evening  shades  thy  silent  walls, 
Then  read  it  all  alone; 

In  stillness  read,  in  darkness  seal, 

Forget,  condemn,  but  not  reveal. 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 


H 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


MARY. 

WHAT  though  the  name  is  old  and  oft  repeated, 
What  though  a  thousand  beings  bear  it  now, 
And  true  hearts  oft  the  gentle  word  have  greeted — 

What  though  'tis  hallowed  by  a  poet's  vow? 
We  ever  love  the  rose,  and  yet  its  blooming 

Is  a  fomiliar  rapture  to  the  eye: 
And  yon  bright  star  we  hail,  although  its  looming 
Age  after  age  has  lit  the  northern  sky. 

As  starry  beam  o'er  troubled  billows  stealing. 

As  garden  odors  to  the  desert  blown, 
In  bosoms  faint  a  gladsome  hope  revealing, 

Like  patriot  music  or  affection's  tone: 
Thus,  thus,  for  aye,  the  name  of  Mary  spoken 

By  lips  or  text,  with  magic-like  control. 
The  course  of  present  thought  has  quickly  broken. 

And  stirred  the  fountains  of  my  inmost  soul. 

The  sweetest  tales  of  human  weal  and  sorrow, 

The  fairest  trophies  of  the  limner's  fame. 
To  my  fond  fancy,  Mary,  seem  to  borrow. 

Celestial  halos  from  thy  gentle  name: 
The  Grecian  artist  gleaned  from  many  faces. 

And  in  a  perfect  whole  the  parts  combined. 
So  have  I  counted  o'er  dear  woman's  graces, 

To  form  the  Mary  of  my  ardent  mind. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  15 

And  marvel  not  I  thus  call  my  ideal — 

We  inly  paint  as  we  would  have  things  be: 
The  fanciful  springs  ever  from  the  real, 

As  Aphrodite  rose  from  out  the  sea. 
Who  smiled  upon  me  kindly,  day  by  day 

In  a  far  land,  where  I  was  sad  and  lone  ? 
Whose  presence  now  is  my  delight  alway  ? 

Both  angels  must  the  same  blessed  title  own. 

What  spirits  round  my  weary  way  are  flying. 

What  fortunes  on  my  future  life  await  ? 
Like  the  mysterious  hymns  the  winds  are  sighing, 

Are  all  unknown — in  trust  I  bide  my  fate: 
But  if  one  blessing  I  might  crave  from  Heaven, 

'Twould  be  that  Mary  should  my  being  cheer, 
Hang  o'er  me  when  the  chord  of  life  is  riven. 

Be  my  dear  household  word,  and  my  last  accent  hear. 

Henry  Theodore  Tuckerman. 


MY  MARY. 

WHEN  Mary  met  my  wondering  eyes 
-She  was  a  little  elf. 
So  fair,  so  canny  and  so  wise 

I  said  within  myself — 
"  O  mystery  of  mysteries 
Thou  tiny  little  creature. 
Thou  com' St  express  from  Paradise 
To  be  thy  Father's  teacher." 


1 6  THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

And  then  she  grew,  until  I  knew 

She  still  was  something  more 
Than  a  mere  flower,  from  heavenly  bower, 

Come  floating  down  the  air. 
Her  face  was  fair,  her  soul  was  rare, 

And  hidden  powers  revealed, 
And  I  began  to  pray  and  scan 

For  virtues  still  concealed. 
So  with  the  years,  my  hopes  and  fears 

Compelled  me  oft  to  cry — 
"  O  wondrous  girl,  I'm  but  a  churl 

To  have  the  care  of  thee." 

But  lo!  before  I  learned  the  lore 

From  whence  my  Mary  grew. 
She  taught  it  me,  upon  my  knee 

And  on  my  bosom  too. 
Teacher  at  once,  and  scholar  too — 

Guide,  guider,  watcher,  ward. 
My  pride,  my  peace,  my  strength,  my  joy, 

My  angel  from  the  Lord. 

J.  P.  L.     In  Christian  Register. 


AVE  MARIA— la.  VAOUERO. 

AVE  MARIA,"  a  herder  said, 
One  eve  in  sight  of  Santa  F^; 
Where  ground  and  blanket  were  his  bed, 
And  all  around  his  cattle  lay. 


THE  UNIVERSAL   NAME.  17 

"Ave  Maria  full  of  grace — " 

How  strangely  solemn  were  the  words, 

In  such  a  wild  and  dreary  place, 
Beneath  the  stars,  among  the  herds. 

"Santa  Maria,  Mother  of  God:" 

Angel  like  breezes  came  to  take 
The  words  thus  spoken,  from  the  sod. 

To  yonder  sky  while  yet  he  spake. 

"  Pray  for  us  sinners  now,"  said  he, 

With  earnest  hope  to  be  forgiven: 
While  distant  hills  all  seemed  to  be 

Steps  leading  from  the  plains  to  Heaven. 

"  Pray  for  us  in  the  hour  of  death," 

And  softly  still  the  murmuring  came. 
Until  at  last  the  lisping  breath — 

Ceased — with  the  sweet  and  holy  name. 

"Ave  Maria,"  no  more  he  said 

That  eve,  in  sight  of  Santa  Fe; 
When  morning  came,  a  herder  dead 

Was  found  there — where  his  cattle  lay. 

J.  C.  Burnet. 


1 8  THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 


MARY. 

"HPHE  prettiest,  tiniest  little  head 

1       That  ever  sat  on  an  ivory  neck, 
So  smooth  and  so  rounded  without  a  fleck, 
That  jewels  were  wasted  such  throat  to  deck, 
In  its  muslin  frill,  like  pearl  in  its  bed; 
With  a  flood  of  soft  rippling  nut-brown  hair 
Reflecting  in  gold  the  kiss  of  the  air; 

Ears  small  and  so  perfect — that  by  him  seen, 
Praxiteles'  models  they  might  have  been, 
To  complete  his  statue  of  Beauty's  queen; 
And  eyes,  like  turquois  and  sapphire  mingled; 
A  voice  as  when  silvery  bells  are  tingled: 
And  withal  so  saucy!   there's  not  a  grace 
But  finds  a  fit  home  in  that  charming  face. 

Harper' s  Magazine,  January,  1S82. 


OUT  TO  OLD  AUNT  MARY'S. 

WASN'T  it  pleasant,  O!  brother  mine, 
In  those  old  days  of  the  lost  sunshine 
Of  youth — when  the  Saturday's  chores  were  through, 
And  the  Sunday's  wood  in  the  kitchen  too, 
And  we  went  visiting,  I  and  you 

Out  to  old  Aunt  Mary's? 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

It  all  comes  back  so  clear  to-day! 
Though  I  am  as  bald  as  you  are  gray — 
Out  by  the  barn-lot  and  down  the  lane 
We  patter  along  in  the  dust  again, 
As  light  as  the  tips  of  the  drops  of  the  rain 
Out  to  old  Aunt  Mary's! 

We  cross  the  pasture,  and  through  the  wood 
Where  the  old  gray  snag  of  the  poplar  stood. 
Where  the  hammering  redheads  hopped  away. 
And  the  buzzard  raised  in  the  open  sky 
And  lolled  and  circled  as  we  went  by 
Out  to  old  Aunt  Mary's! 

And  then  in  the  dust  of  the  road  again. 
And  the  teams  we  met  and  the  countrymen, 
And  the  long  highway  with  the  sunshine  spread 
As  thick  as  butter  on  country  bread, 
And  our  cares  behind  and  our  hearts  ahead, 
Out  to  old  Aunt  Mary's! 

I  see  her  now  in  the  open  door, 
Where  the  little  gourds  grew  up  the  sides  and  on 
The  clapboard  roof     And  her  face — oh  me! 
Wasn'  t  it  good  for  a  boy  to  see  ? 
And  wasn't  it  good  for  the  boy  to  be 
Out  to  old  Aunt  Mary's  ? 

And  oh!  my  brother,  so  far  away, 
This  is  to  tell  you  she  waits  to-day 


19 


20  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

To  welcome  us,  Aunt  Mary  fell 
Asleep  this  morning,  whispering,  "Tell 
The  boys  to  come!  "   And  all  is  well 
Out  to  old  Aunt  Mary's. 

James  Whitcomb  Riley. 


HOW  MARY  GREW. 

(addressed    to    miss    MARY    GREW). 

WITH  wisdom  far  beyond  her  years, 
And  graver  than  her  wondering  peers, 
So  strong,  so  mild,  combining  still. 
The  tender  heart  and  queenly  will, 
To  conscience  and  to  duty  true 
So  up  from  childhood,  Mary  Grew! 

Then  in  her  gracious  womanhood, 
She  gave  her  days  to  doing  good, 
She  dared  the  scornful  laugh  of  men, 
The  hounding  mob,  the  slanderer's  pen. 

So  did  the  work  she  found  to  do, 

A  christian  heroine,  Mary  Grew! 

The  freed  slave  thanks  her;  blessing  comes 

To  her,  from  woman's  weary  homes; 

The  wronged  and  erring  find  in  her 

The  censor  mild,  and  comforter. 
The  world  were  safe,  if  but  a  few 
Could  grow  in"gracelu5  Mary  Grew. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  21 

So  New  Year's  Eve,  I  sit  and  say, 
By  this  low  wood  fire,  ashen  grey; 
Just  wishing  as  the  night  shuts  down, 
That  I  could  hear  in  Boston  town, 

In  pleasant  Chestnut  Avenue 

From  her  own  lips,  how  Mary  Grew! 

And  hear  her  graceful  hostess  tell, 

The  silver-voiced  oracle — 

Who  lately  through  her  i)arlor«  spoke 

As  through  Dodona's  sacred  oak; 

A  wiser  truth  than  any  told 

By  Sappho's  lips  of  ruddy  gold — 

The  way  to  make  the  world  anew 

Is  just  to  grow — as  Mary  Grew! 

John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 


THOUGHTS  OF  MARY  ON  THE 
POTOMAC. 

ALL  quiet  along  the  Potomac  they  say — 
Except  now  and  then  a  stray  picket 
Is  shot,  as  he  walks  on  his  beat  to  and  fro 

By  a  rifleman  hid  in  the  thicket. 
'Tis  nothing;  a  private  or  two  now  and  then 

Will  not  count  in  the  news  of  the  battle; 
Not  an  officer  lost,  only  one  of  the  men 
Moaning  out,  all  alone,  the  death  rattle. 


22  THE    UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

All  quiet  along  the  Potomac  to-night, 

Where  the  soldiers  lie  peacefully  dreaming 
Their  tents  in  the  rays  of  the  clear  autumn  moon,- 

Or  the  light  of  the  watch-fires  are  gleaming. 
A  tremulous  sigh,  as  the  gentle  night  wind 

Through  the  forest  leaves  gently  is  creeping, 
While  stars  up  above,  with  their  glittering  eyes 

Keep  guard, — for  the  army  is  sleeping. 

There's  only  the  sound  of  the  lone  sentry's  tread, 

As  he  tramps  from  the  rock  to  the  fountain, 
And  thinks  of  the  two  in  the  lone  trundle  bed. 

Far  away  in  the  cot,  on  the  mountain. 
His  musket  falls  slack,  his  face  dark  and  grim, 

Glows  gentle  with  memories  tender, 
As  he  mutters  a  prayer  for  the  children  asleep; 

For  their  mother — may  heaven  defend  her! 

The  moon  seems  to  shine  just  as  brighdy  as  then 

That  night  when  the  love  yet  unspoken, 
Leapt  up  to  his  lips,  when  low,  murmured  vows 

Were  pledged  to  be  ever  unbroken; 
Then  drawing  his  sleeve  roughly  over  his  eyes 

He  dashes  off  tears  that  are  welling. 
And  gathers  his  gun  closer  up  to  his  side 

As  if  to  keep  down  the  heart  swelling. 

He  passes  the  fountain,  the  blasted  pine  tree, 

The  footstep  is  lagging  and  weary. 
Yet  onward  he  goes  through  the  broad  belt  of  light 

T'ward  the  shade  of  the  forest  so  dreary. 


THE  UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Hark!  was  it  the  night- wind  that  rustled  the  leaves, 
Was  it  moonlight  so  wondrously  flashing  ? 

It  looked  like  a  rifle — "Ah!  Mary,  good-bye," 
And  the  life-blood  is  ebbing  and  plashing. 

All  quiet  along  the  Potomac  to-night, 

No  sound,  save  the  rush  of  the  river; 
While  soft  falls  the  dew  on  the  face  of  the  dead 

The  picket's  off"  duty  forever. 
Hark !  was  it  the  night-wind  that  rustled  the  leaves, 

Was  it  moonlight  so  wondrously  plashing  ? 
It  looked  like  a  rifle — "Ah!  Mary,  good-bye," 

And  the  life-blood  is  ebbing  and  flashing. 

Mrs.  Ethel  Lynn  Beers. 


23 


AN  AMERICAN  "AVE  MARIA." 

AVE  MARIA,"  'tis  the  evening  hymn. 
Of  many  pilgrims  on  the  land  and  sea; 
Soon  as  the  day  withdraws,  and  two  or  three 
Faint  stars  are  burning,  all  whose  eyes  are  dim 
With  tears  or  watching,  all  of  weary  limb. 
Or  troubled  spirit,  yield  the  bended  knee, 
And  find,  O!  Virgin,  life's  repose  in  thee. 
I  too,  at  nightfall,  when  the  new  born  rim 
Of  the  young  moon  is  first  beheld  above, 

Tune  my  fond  thoughts  to  their  devoutest  key, 


H 


THE   UNIVERSAL    NAME. 

And  from  all  bondage — save  remembrance,  free, 
Glad  of  my  liberty  as  Noah's  dove, 

Seek  the  Madona  most  adored  by  me, 
And  say  my  "Ave  Maria's  "  to  my  love. 

Thomas  William  Parsons. 


MARY  PRESCOTT. 

(a  reminisence). 

IF  I  had  thought  so  soon  she  would  have  died, 
He  said,  I  had  been  tenderer  in  my  speech, 
I  had  a  moment  lingered  at  her  side. 

And  held  her,  ere  she  passed  beyond  my  reach ; 
If  I  had  thought  so  soon  she  would  have  died. 

That  day  she  looked  up  with  her  starded  eyes. 

Like  some  hurt  creature,  where  the  woods  are  deep; 

With  kisses  I  had  stilled  those  breaking  sighs, 
With  kisses  closed  those  eyelids  into  sleep. 

That  day  she  looked  up  with  her  startled  eyes, 

Oh!  had  I  known  she  would  have  died  so  soon. 

Love  had  not  wasted  ow  a  barren  land. 
Love,  like  those  rivers  under  torrid  noon 

Lost  on  the  desert,  poured  out  on  the  sand — 
Oh!   had  I  known  she  would  have  died  so  soon. 

Harriet  Prescott  Spofford. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


TO  LITTLE  MARY  L- 


O 


DARLING  Mary  L- 


We  love  you  more  than  well 
For  your  charming  winsome  ways 

Are  so  bonnie! 
Though  ye'r  na'  from  "  auld  Scotland 
Wi'  their  brawest  ye  can  stan' 
Wi'  ye'r  ee  o'  blue  sae  kind,  and 

Smile  so  sunny! 


O  darling  Mary  L- 


May  ye  outshine  them  a' 
In  good  and  gentle  ways 

Sweet  and  bonnie! 
May  ye  set  no  store  on  beauty 
And  forever  rule  yoursel' 
By  the  grace  of  Love  and  Duty 

Blessings  on  ye,  Mary  L . 

1884.  E.  V.  B. 


26  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


WEE  MARIAN  B- 


MARIAN'S  eyes  are  greyish  blue, 
Greyish  blue; 
But  they  straightway  look  you  through 

Look  you  through. 
Her  voice  is  bright  and  clear, 
As  it  falls  upon  the  ear — 

Ringing  true. 

Sweet  Marian's  but  a  bud  yet, 

A  bud  yet; 
Wait  until  she  grows, 

Till  she  grows, 
Then  we'll  have  the  sweetness 
Then  we'll  see  the  beauty  of  the  rose 

The  perfect  rose! 
1885.  E.  V.  B. 


TO  MISS  MARY  C- 


(ON  iii:k  return  to  hermuda). 

CHILD  of  the  sea,  why  did'st  thou  come 
Far  from  thy  native  Isle 
To  shine  a  moment  in  our  homes 
And  all  our  hearts  beguile. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

We've  seen  thee  in  thy  days  of  joy, 
We've  mourned  with  thee  in  sorrow; 

And  prayed  for  thee,  that  every  day 
Might  bring  a  bright  to-morrow. 

But  now,  our  "  Vision  of  Dehght" 

Is  passing  from  our  view. 
But  space  can  not  efface  our  love 

Our  hearts  will  sail  with  you. 

E.  V.  B. 


I  DINNA  FIND  MY  MARY. 

MY  Mary!  O  my  Mary! 
The  simmer  skies  are  blue; 
The  dawning  brings  the  dazzle, 

The  gloamin'  brings  the  dew — 
The  mirk  o'  nicht  the  glory 

O'  the  moon,  and  kindles  too 
The  stars  that  shift  about  the  lift. 
But  nae  thing  brings  me  you! 

Where  is  it,  O,  my  Mary, 

Ye  are  biding  a'  the  while  ? 
I  ha'  wended  by  your  window — 

I  ha'  waited  at  the  stile: 
And  up  and  down  the  river 

I  ha'  rowed  for  mony  a  mile, 
Yet  never  found  it,  drift  or  drowned, 

Your  long  belated  smile. 


28  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Is  it  forgot,  my  Mary, 

How  glad  we  used  to  be  ? 
The  simmer  time,  when  bonnie 

Bloomed  the  auld  trysting  tree — 
How  there  I  carved  a  name  for  you, 

And  you  a  name  for  me; 
And  the  twilight  kenned  it  only, 

When  we  kissed  sae  tenderly. 

Speak  aince  to  nic,  my  Mary — 

But  whisper  in  my  ear. 
As  light  as  ony  sleeper's  breath, 

And  a'  my  soul  will  hear; 
My  heart  shall  stop  its  beating. 

And  the  soughing  atmosphere 
Be  hushed,  the  while  I  leaning  smile 

And  listen  to  you,  dear. 

My  Mary!  O  my  Mary! 

The  blossoms  bring  the  bees. 
The  sunshine  brings  the  blossoms 

And  the  leaves  upon  the  trees. 
The  simmer  brings  the  sunshine, 

And  the  fragrance  of  the  breeze, 
But  O,  without  you,  Mary, 

I  care  nae  thing  for  these! 

We  were  sae  happy,  Mary! 

O  think  liow  aince  we  said — 
Wad  anc  o'  us  gang  fickle, 

Or  ane  o'  us  were  dead — 


THE  UNIVERSAL   NAME.  29 

To  feel  anither's  kisses 

We  wad  feign  the  auld  instead, 
And  ken  the  ither's  footsteps 

In  the  grass  aboon  the  head. 

My  Mary!    O,  my  Mary! 

Are  ye  sister  o'  the  air  ? 
That  ye  vanish  aye  before  me 

As  I  follow  everywhere. 
Or  is  it  that  ye' re  only 

But  a  mortal  wan  wi'  care  ? 
Sin'  I  search  the  kirkyard  over 

And  dinna  find  you  there! 

James  Whitcomb  Riley. 


MY  MARY. 

(old  song.) 

KIND,  kind,  gentle  is  she, 
Kind  is  my  Mary; 
The  sweetest  blossom  on  the  tree 
Can  not  compare  with  Mary! 

So  when  I  see  some  bonnie  lass, 
I  step  aside  and  let  her  pass. 

For  O!  for  O!  she's  not  the  lass. 
For  O!  she's  not  my  Mary! 


30 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Kind,  kind,  gentle  is  she, 

Kind  is  my  Mary; 
The  sweetest  blossom  on  the  tree 

Can  not  compare  with  Mary! 


I 


MY  SWEET  AND  DELICATE   MARIE. 

MY  sweet  and  delicate  Marie, 
I  used  to  call  you  Mary! 
By  either  name  you  were  to  me 

A  most  undoubted  fairy; 
But  as  you  grew  in  years  and  stature. 
You  changed  alike  in  name  and  nature. 

I  used  to  think  your  eyes  of  blue, 

Your  almost  perfect  features, 
Were  beauty's  models,  and  that  you 

The  rarest  of  earth's  creatures, 
Eclipsed  in  every  situation 
The  best  effects  of  decoration. 

But  now  your  gentle  tone  is  changed 

To  me  it  is  a  war-song — 
And  we  so  far  apart  have  ranged 

That  we  might  play  "  Divorcons," 
In  fact  we  get  along  as  badly 
As  if  I  once  had  loved  you  madly. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Alone  you  pick  your  airy  way 
Among  your  "  Rose  de  Barry," 

Faience,  Satsuma,  CIoisonn6, 
And  vow  you  ne'er  will  marry, 

While  I  about  the  bookstores  wander 

And  over  old  editions  ponder. 

My  sweet  and  delicate  Marie 

Whom  I  admired  as  Mary, 
Love  can  not  stay  with  such  as  we 

Whose  tastes  so  widely  vary. 
You  say  that  my  pursuits  are  mussy 
And  I  am  sure  that  yours  are  fussy. 

Edward  Willett. 


31 


THE  EMPIRE  OF  THE  MIND,  MARY. 

NO — not  the  eye  of  tender  blue, 
Though  Mary,  'twere  the  tint  of  thine; 
Or  breathing  lip  of  glowing  hue. 
Might  bid  the  opening  bud  repine 

Had  long  enthralled  my  mind,  Mary. 

Nor  tint  with  tint,  alternate  aiding. 

That  o'er  the  dimpled  tablet  flow. 
The  vermeil  to  the  lily  fading! 

Nor  ringlet  bright,  with  orient  glow. 

In  many  a  tendril  twined,  Mary. 


32  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

The  breathing  tuit,  the  beamy  ray 

The  hneal  harmony  divine, 
That  o'  er  the  form  of  beauty  play, 

Mieht  warm  a  colder  heart  than  mine. 
But  not  forever  bind,  Mary. 

But  when  to  radiant  form  and  feature 
Internal  worth  and  feeling  join; 

With  temper  mild  and  gay  good  nature, 
Around  the  willing  heart  they  twine 

The  Empire  of  the  mind,  Mary. 


I 


PRETTY  MARY,  O! 

NO  more  with  tears  I  count  the  years. 
When  sorrow  wooed  me  long  ago: 
Though  hearts  must  bleed  when  they  have  need. 

And  friend  may  wound  you  worse  than  foe. 
Smiles  come  at  last,  when  grief  goes  past; 

But  oh!  our  thoughts  did  vary  so; 
When  I  sat  back,  with  head  bowed  down, 
And  you  stood  up  before  the  town, 
A-marrying  pretty  Mary,  O! 

O!  fairest  maid,  through  sun  and  .shade 
And  storm  and  darkness  brooding  so; 

She  was  my  star,  that  smiled  afar. 
The  only  light  I  cared  to  know. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

You  soared  on  high  and  from  the  sky 

My  pretty  star  bore  swiftly,  Joe: 
And  then  to  say,  "  God  bless  you  both," 
It  tore  me  like  a  cruel  oath. 

When  you  had  wed  my  Mary,  O! 

O !  time  has  wings  that  bring  sweet  things. 

To  hide  the  wounds  that  rend  us  so; 
A  winsome  touch,  that  thrills  me  much 

Is  now  upon  my  shoulder,  Joe! 
And  gentle  eyes,  whose  light  I  prize 

More  than  all  dreams  I  used  to  know, 
Look  into  mine,  and  we  renew 
And  send  the  thankful  love  of  two, 

To  Joe  and  pretty  Mary,  O! 

Benjamin  S.  Parker. 


33 


A'  FOR  MARY. 

IK  EN  a  wud  whaur  the  breezes  sing 
Tae  nicht  frae  mornin'  early, 
Whaur  ilka  bird  on  flutt'rin'  wing. 

Joins  in  the  chorus  rarely; 
An'  aye  my  fancy  forms  the  sang — 

Hooe'er  its  notes  may  vary, 
Tae  this,  the  chief  a'  themes  amang, 
"The  vvarl'  an  a'  for  Mary." 


34  THE  UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

I  ken  a  water,  dancin'  licht 

At  simmer  morn  an'  gloamin', 
Adoon  the  rocks  like  siller  bricht, 

An,  then  o'er  meadows  roam  in'. 
It  has  a  liltin',  joyous  note, 

Saft  as  sang  o'  fairy 
And  this  is  aye  the  burden  o't,  ■. 

"  The  warl'  ana'  for  Mary."  I 


I 


I  ken  a  heart,  nae  sayin'  whaur, 

That  lo'es  this  wordless  tunin' 
That  hears  nae  soon'  frae  stream  or  scaur. 

But  love  is  aye  communin'  ; 
It  has  nae  wish  itsel'  tae  free 

Frae  fancy's  wild  vagary,  I 

An'  weel  I  ken  that  heart  wud  gie 

"The  warl'  an  a'  for  Mary." 

William  Lyle. 


MARION  MOORE. 

GONE  art  thou,  Marion,  Marion  Moore! 
Cione  like  the  bird  in  the  autumn  that  siiigcth, 
Cionc  like  the  flower  by  the  wayside  that  s[)riiigcth, 
Gone  like  the  leaf  of  the  ivy  that  clingclh 
Round  the  lone  rock  on  a  storm  beaten  shore, 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  35 

Dear  wert  thou,  Marion,  Marion  Moore! 

Dear  as  the  tide  in  my  broken  heart  throbbing, 
Dear  as  the  soul  o'er  thy  memory  sobbing. 
Sorrow  my  hfe  of  its  roses  is  robbing 

Wasting  is  all  the  glad  beauty  of  yore. 

I  will  remember  thee,  Marion  Moore! 
I  shall  remember,  alas,  to  regret  thee, 
I  will  regret  when  all  others  forget  thee 
Deep  in  my  breast  will  the  hour  that  I  met  thee, 

Linger  and  burn  till  Life's  fever  is  o'er. 

Gone  art  thou,  Marion,  Marion  Moorel 

Gone  like  the  breeze  o'er  the  billow  that  bloweth; 
Gone  like  the  rill  to  the  ocean  that  floweth ; 
Gone  as  the  day,  from  the  grey  mountain  goeth, 

Darkness  behind  thee,  but  glory  before. 

Peace  to  thee,  Marion,  Marion  Moore! 

Peace  which  the  queens  of  the  earth  can  not  borrow; 
Peace  from  a  kingdom  that  crowned  thee  with  sorrow, 
O!  to  be  happy  with  thee,  on  the  morrow. 

Who  would  not  fly  from  this  desolate  shore  ? 

James  Gaylord  Clark. 


36  THE  UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


M 


MARY,  LIST!  AWAKE! 


ARY,  dear  Mary,  list!  awake! 

And  now  like  the  moon  thy  slumbers  break. 
There  is  not  a  taper,  and  scarcely  a  sound 
To  be  seen,  or  be  heard  in  the  cottages  round; 
The  watch-dog  is  silent,  thy  father  sleeps, 
But  love,  like  the  breeze,  to  thy  window  creeps: 

The  moonlight  seems  listening  all  over  the  land, 

To  the  whispers  of  angels  like  thee; 
O!  lift  but  a  moment  the  sash  with  thine  hand, 
And  kiss  but  that  hand  to  me. 

My  love  Mary, 
Kiss  but  that  hand  to  me! 


Gently  awake,  and  gently  rise. 
Oh!  for  a  kiss  to  unclose  thine  eyes! 
The  vapors  of  sleep  shall  fly  softly  the  while, 
As  the  breath  on  thy  mirror  breaks  at  thy  smile, 
And  then  I  would  wliisper  thee,  never  to  fear. 
For  Heaven  is  all  round  thee  when  true  love  is  near. 
Just  under  the  woodbine,  dear  Mary  I  stand. 

Still  looking  and  list'ning  for  thee; 
O!  lift  but  a  moment  the  sash  with  thine  hand 
And  kiss  but  that  hand  to  mc, 

My  love  Mary, 
And  kiss  but  that  hand  to  nic! 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  37 

Hark!  do  I  hear  thee? — Yes!  'tis  thou, 
And  there  is  thy  hand — I  see  thee  now; 
Thou  look' St  Hke  a  rose  in  a  crystal  stream, 
For  thy  face,  love,  is  bathed  in  the  moonlight  gleam; 
And  oh!  could  my  kisses  like  stream -circles  rise, 
To  dip  in  thy  dimples,  and  spread  round  thine  eyes. 
How  sweet  to  be  lost  in  a  night  such  as  this, 

In  the  arms  of  an  angel  like  thee. 
Nay,  stay  but  a  moment — one  moment  of  bliss, 
And  smile  but  forgiveness  to  me! 

My  love,  Mary, 
Smile  but  forgiveness  to  me! 

Nobody,  sweet,  can  hear  our  sighs. 

Thy  voice,  just  comes  on  the  soft  air  and  dies; 

Dost  thou  gaze  on  the  moon,  as  I've  gazed  as  I  rove? 

Till  I  thought  it  had  breathed  Heaven's  blessings  on  love, 

Till  I've  stretched  out  my  arms,  and  my  tears  have  begun, 

And  Nature  and  Heaven  and  Thou  seemed  but  One. 

Fare  thee  well,  sweetest  Mary,  the  moon's  in  the  west, 

And  the  leaves  shine  with  tear-drops  like  thee; 
So  draw  in  thy  charms,  and  betake  thee  to  rest, 
O!   thou  dearer  than  life  to  me. 

My  love,  Mary, 
Thou  dearer  than  life  to  me! 


38  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


T 


.      THE  MARIGOLDE. 

The  following  is  one  of  the  quaintest  poems  of  its  era:  it  is  a 
panegyric  upon  Queen  Mary  Tudor.  The  original  is  preserved 
in  the  archives  of  the  library  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries  at 
Somerset  House.  It  is  very  lengthy  and  we  can  give  but  a  few 
excerpts.  The  poet  after  describing  the  virtues  of  other  flowers, 
proceeds  thus: 

*HIS  marigolde  floure,  mark  it  well, 
With  Sonne  doth  open  and  also  shut: 
Which  (in  a  meanhig)  to  us  doth  tell, 

To  Christ,  God's  Sonne,  our  wills  to  put; 
And  by  his  worde  to  set  our  futte, 

Stifly  to  stand  as  champions  bolde: 
For  the  truth,  nor  to  stagger  nor  stutter: 
For  which  I  praise  the  marigolde. 

To  Marie  our  Queen,  that  floure  so  sweet. 

This  marigolde  I  doe  apply, 
For  that  the  name  doth  serve  to  meete, 

And  propertee  in  each  partie: 
To  her  enduring  patiently 

The  storms  of  such  as  list  to  scolde 
At  her  dooyings,  without  cause  why; 

Loth  to  see  spring  this  marigolde. 

She  may  be  called  Marigolde  well. 

Of  Marie's  (chief)  Christe's  mother  dcere, 

That  as  in  heaven  shec  doth  excell. 
And  Gold  on  earth  it  hath  no  pearc: 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  39 

So  certainly  Shce  shineth  cleere. 

In  grace  and  honor  double  folde; 
The  like  was  never  earst  seen  hcere; 

Such  is  this  floure — the  marigolde. 

:  *  ;i;  *  *  * 

If  she  (in  faith)  had  erred  a-misse 

Which  God  most  sure  doth  understand, 
Would  he  have  done  as  proved  is, 

Her  enemies  so  to  bring  to  hande  ? 
No,  be  ye  sure;  I  make  a  bande, 

For  servying  him,  he  needs  so  wold 
Make  her  to  reign  over  England; 

So  loveth  hee  this  Marigolde. 

Her  conversation  note  who  list, 

It  is  more  heavenly  than  terraine, 
For  which  God  doth  her  acts  assist; 

All  meekness  doth  in  her  remaine; 
All  is  her  care,  how  to  ordainne, 

To  have  God's  glory  here  extolde; 
Of  poor  and  rich  she  is  most  fayne; 

Christ  save  therefore  this  Marygolde. 

Sith,  so  it  is,  God  loveth  her, 

And  she  his  grace  as  doth  appear: 
Ye  may  be  bolde  as  to  referre. 

All  doubtfullness,  to  her  most  cleare. 
That  as  her  owne,  in  like  manneare. 

She  with  your  welthes,  both  young  and  olde; 
Obey  her  then,  as  your  Queen  deare, 

And  say,  "  Christe  save  this  Marigolde." 


40  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


TO  MARY  THE  BLESSED  MOTHER. 

(from    an    old    ENGLISH    PASSION    PLAY,   OF    DATE    1 264). 

"TTAIL,  O  hail,  all  peerless  Maiden! 
1  1      Thine  enclasping  arm  is  laden, 
With  a  child  whose  ages  number 

God's  eternity. 
Let  us  worship  him  in  slumber 

On  his  mother's  knee. 

Mary  by  thy  mediation 

Grant  our  sinful  souls  salvation! 

Though  as  w^heat  the  devil  sift  us. 

Hold  us  in  thy  sight, 
That  thy  Son  at  last  may  lift  us 

To  his  blessed  light!  " 


TO  OUEEN  MARY  STUART. 

O!  BONNIE  Mary  Stuart, 
In  Lochlevcn  keep: 
There's  muckle  dool  before  yc, 
Life's  road  is  rough  an'  steep. 


THE    UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

The  nicht-bird  croaks  fra'  eerie, 

On  the  auld  castle  wa' 
An'  aye  it  sings  sae  weirdly — 
Oh,  dinna'  gang  awa'  — 

"  Dinna  leave  the  bravv  Scotch  hills, 

Whaur  hearts  are  gude  an'  true, 
And  dinna  cross  the  border. 
Or  sair  the  day  ye' 11  rue." 

I  had  a  vvakefu'  dream  yestreen. 

Of  treason,  bluidy  red — 
I  saw  a  ghastly  march  in' 

Gae  slowly  past  my  bed; 
I  saw  an  axe  like  siller 

A  dark  cheil'  bore  alang, 

An'  roon'  him  flew  the  corbie 

Wi'  his  uncanny  sang — 

"  Had  ye  no'  left  the  mountains, 

Whaur  hearts  are  guid  an'  true. 
Had  ye  no'  crossed  the  border 
Ye  wadna'  had  tae  rue." 

She  crossed  the  Scottish  border. 

She  met  her  Judas  frien' ; 
Waes  me  for  Mary  Stuart, 

Our  bonny  martyr  Queen, 
Weary  fa'  ye  Jezebel, 

There's  bluid  upon  yer  name, 
Time  ne'er  will  wipe  the  stainin' 

Fra'  yer  unqueenly  fame. 


41 


42  THE    UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

She  pined  for  mony  winters, 
Then  paid  a  debt,  no  due. 

Sae  fell  our  Scottish  Mary — 
The  corbie's  sang  cam'  true. 

William  Lyle. 


OUEEN  MARY  AT  FOTHERINGAY. 

AH,  wearily  and  woe  is  me! 
Ah,  wearily  the  time  drifts  on; 
Unrestful,  of  a  verity, 

The  life  whose  love  of  life  is  gone. 
No  heartsome  sports  the  hours  engross, 
A  nerveless  round  consumes  the  day. 
To  broider  hems,  or  gaze  across 
The  dreary  flats  of  Fotheringay. 

I  hear,  through  distant  forest  glades 

The  falconer  ride  by  the  banks  of  Nenne, 
'Mid  tuneful  madrigals  of  maids 

And  deep  toned  notes  of  Englishmen. 
I'd  rather  be  the  dove  they  kill. 

Sating  their  talons  with  my  blood. 
Than  being  a  falcon  at  their  will 

Return  obedient  to  the  hood. 

What  love,  what  royal  clemency, 

O,  sister  Queen,  Elizabeth, 
Yon  gloomy  bastions  testify. 

This  ca|)ti\'e  woman  witncsscth! 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  43 

My  realm  four  roods  of  prison  ground, 

Four  faithful  leiges  left  alone, 
My  Maries  four,  that  hover  round 

Their  Mary's  shadow  of  a  throne. 

O!  Mary  mother,  maid  divine, 

That  sittest  in  the  height  serene, 
A  sorry  plight  on  earth  was  mine 

To  be  a  woman  and  a  Queen! 
Soon  may  these  mortal  prison  bars, 

Belore  my  white  winged  soul  be  riven 
Soon  may  it  soar  above  the  stars 

And  win  the  bonnie  hills  of  Heaven. 

Mag.  Art. 


OUEEN  MARY'S  ESCAPE  FROM 
LOCHLEVEN  CASTLE. 

(air:     highland  boat). 

PUT  off,  put  off,  and  row  with  speed! 
For  now's  the  time  and  the  hour  of  need! 
To  oars,  to  oars,  and  trim  the  bark. 
Nor  Scotland's  Oueen  be  a  warder's  mark; 
Yon  light  that  plays  round  the  castle's  moat 
Is  only  the  warder's  random  shot; 
Put  off,  put  off,  and  row  with  speed. 
For  now  is  the  time  and  the  hour  of  need! 


44 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Those  pond'rous  keys*  shall  the  kelpie's  keep, 
And  lodge  in  their  caverns  dark  and  deep; 
Nor  shall  Lochleven's  towers  or  hall, 
Hold  our  lovely  lady  Queen  in  thrall; 
Or  be  the  haunt  of  traitors,  sold — 
While  Scotland  has  hands  and  hearts  so  bold; 
Then  steersman,  steersman,  on  with  speed, 
For  now  is  the  time  and  the  hour  of  need! 

Hark !  the  alarm-bell  hath  rung-, 

And  the  warder's  voice  hath  "  Treason!  "  sung; 

The  echoes  to  the  falconets  roar, 

Chime  softly  to  the  dashing  oar. 

Let  town  and  hall,  and  battlements  gleam, 

We  steer  by  the  light  of  the  taper's  beam. 

For  "  Scotland  and  Mary!  "  on  with  speed. 

For  now  is  the  time,  and  the  hour  of  need! 


MARY. 

IF  there's  a  word  that  whispers  love 
In  gentlest  tones  to  hearts  of  woe. 
If  there's  a  name  more  prized  above 
And  loved  with  deeper  love  below, 

'Tis  Mary. 


*The  keys  of  lic-r  prison;  since  found  in  the  lake. 


THE    UNIVERSAL   NAME.  45 

If  there's  a  healing  sound  beneath, 
To  soothe  the  heart  in  sorrow's  hour, 

If  there's  a  name  that  angels  breathe, 
In  silence  with  a  deeper  power, 

'Tis  Mary. 

It  softly  hangs  on  many  a  tongue, 

In  lady's  bower  and  sacred  fane; 
The  sweetest  name  by  poets  sung, 

The  high  and  consecrated  strain. 

Is  Mary. 

And  Scotia's  Bard — life's  holiest  dream 
Was  his,  the  silent  heavens  above, 

When  on  the  Bible  o'er  the  stream, 
He  vowed  his  early  vows  of  love 

To  Mary. 

Oh,  with  the  sweet  repose  of  even. 

By  forest  lone,  by  fragrant  lea; 
And  by  thy  beauties  all.  Loch  Leven, 

How  dear  shall  the  remembrance  be 

Of  Mary. 

Scotland  and  Mary  are  entwined 

With  blooming  wreath  of  fadeless  green. 

And  printed  on  the  undying  mind. 

For,  oh!  her  fair,  though  fited  Queen 

Was  Mary. 


46  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

By  the  lone  forest  and  the  lea, 

When  smiles  the  thoughtful  evening  star 

Though  other  names  may  nearer  be 
The  sweetest,  gentlest,  loveliest  far 

Is  Mary! 


MARY'S  WEDDING. 

YOU  are  to  be  married,  Mary, 
This  hour  as  I  wakeful  lie. 
In  the  dreamy  hours  of  the  morning, 

Your  wedding  hour  draws  nigh. 
Miles  off,  you  are  rising,  dressing, 
Your  bride-maidens  gay  among. 
In  the  same  old  house  we  played  in 
When  you  and  I  were  young. 

I  can  not  call  up  your  face,  Mary, 

The  face  of  the  bride  to-day; 
You  have  outgrown  my  knowledge. 

The  years  have  so  slipped  away. 
I  see  but  your  girlish  likeness, 

Brown  eyes,  and  brown  falling  hair 
God  knows  I  did  love  you  dearly 

And  was  proud  that  you  were  fair. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  47 

Many  now  speak  my  name,  Mary, 

While  yours  in  home's  silence  lies; 
The  future  I  read  in  toil's  guerdon, 

You  will  read  in  your  children's  eyes. 
The  past — the  same  past  with  either — 

Is  to  you  a  delightsome  scene, 
But  I  can  not  trace  it  clearly 

For  the  graves  that  rise  between. 

I  am  glad  j'^2^  are  happy,  Mary, 

These  tears  could  you  see  them  fall 
Would  show,  though  you  have  forgotten, 

I  have  remembered  all. 
And  though  my  cup  may  be  empty 

While  yours  is  all  running  o'er, 
Heaven  keep  you  its  sweetness,  Mary, 

And  brimming  forevermore. 


MARY'S  DREAM. 

THE  moon  had  climbed  the  highest  hill, 
Which  rises  o'er  the  source  of  Dee, 
And  from  the  eastern  summit  sTied 

Her  silver  light  on  tower  and  tree; 
When  Mary  laid  her  down  to  sleep, 
Her  thoughts  on  Sandy  far  at  sea; 
When  soft  and  low  a  voice  was  heard. 
Say,  "  Mary,  weep  no  more  for  me," 


48  THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

She  from  her  pillow  gently  raised 

Her  head,  to  ask  who  there  might  be — 
She  saw  young  Sandy  shivering  stand, 

With  visage  pale  and  hollow  e'e; 
"  O,  Mary  dear!  cold  is  my  clay. 

It  lies  beneath  a  stormy  sea; 
Far,  far  from  thee,  I  sleep  in  death; 

So  Mary,  weep  no  more  for  me! 

Three  stormy  nights  and  stormy  days. 

We  tossed  upon  the  raging  main; 
And  long  we  strove  our  bark  to  save. 

But  all  our  striving  was  in  vain. 
E'en  then,  when  horror  chilled  my  blood. 

My  heart  was  filled  with  love  for  thee; 
The  storm  is  past,  and  I  at  rest; 

So,  Mary,  weep  no  more  for  me! 

O!  maiden  dear,  thyself  prepare, 

We  soon  shall  meet  upon  that  shore 
Where  love  is  free  from  doubt  and  care. 

And  thou  and  I  shall  part  no  more." 
Loud  crowed  the  cock,  the  shadow  fled. 

No  more  of  Sandy  could  she  see; 
But  soft  the  passing  spirit  said, 

"  Sweet  Mary,  weep  no  more  for  me!  " 

John  Lowe. 


THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME.  49 


MARY— THE  ROSE  OF  AELENDALE. 

THE  morn  was  fair,  the  skies  were  clear 
No  breath  came  o'er  the  sea 
When  Mary  left  her  highland  cot, 

And  wandered  forth  with  me. 
The  flowers  decked  the  mountain  side, 

And  fragrance  filled  the  vale. 
By  far  the  sweetest  flower  there 
Was  the  Rose  of  Allendale. 

Where'er  I  wandered  east  or  west 

Though  fate  began  to  lower 
A  solace  still  was  she  to  me. 

In  sorrow's  lonely  hour. 
When  tempests  lashed  our  gallant  bark 

And  rent  her  shiv'ring  sail, 
One  maiden  form  withstood  the  storm 

'Twas  the  Rose  of  Allendale. 

And  when  my  fevered  lips  were  parched 

On  Afric's  burning  sand. 
The  whispered  hopes  of  happiness 

And  tales  of  distant  land. 
My  life  had  been  a  wilderness 

Unblest  by  fortune's  gale 

Had  fate  not  linked  my  lot  to  her's, 

The  Rose  of  Allendale. 

Charles  Jeffries. 


50 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


PRETTY  MARY  OF  LOCH  DAN. 

THE  shades  of  eve  had  crossed  the  glen 
That  frowns  o'er  infant  Avonmore, 
When  nigh  Loch  Dan,  two  weary  men, 
We  stopped  before  a  cottage  door. 

"  God  save  all  here,"  my  comrade  cries, 
And  rattles  on  the  raised  latch-pin; 

"  God  save  you  kindly,"  quick  replies 
A  dear  sweet  voice,  and  asks  us  in. 

We  fnter;  from  the  wheel  she  starts, 

A  rosy  girl  with  soft  black  eyes; 
Her  fluttering  court' sy  takes  our  hearts. 

Her  blushing  grace,  and  pleased  surprise. 

Poor  Mary  she  was  quite  alone. 

For  all  the  way  to  Glenmalure, 
Her  mother  had  that  morning  gone. 

And  left  the  house  in  charge  with  her. 

She  brought  us  in  a  beechen  bowl. 

Sweet  milk  that  smacked  of  mountain  thyme, 
Oat  cake,  and  such  a  yellow  roll 

Of  butter — it  gilds  all  my  rliymc. 


THE    UNIVERSAL   NAME.  51 

And  while  we  ate  the  grateful  food 

With  weary  limbs  on  bench  reclined. 
Considerate  and  discreet  she  stood 

Apart,  and  listened  to  the  wind. 

Kind  wishes  both  our  souls  engaged, 

From  breast  to  breast  spontaneous  ran 
The  mutual  thought — we  stood  and  pledged 

"  The  Modest  Rose  above  Loch  Dan." 

"  The  milk  we  drink  is  not  more  pure, 
Sweet  Mary,  bless  those  budding  charms! 

Than  your  own  generous  heart,  I'm  sure. 
Nor  whiter  than  the  breast  it  warms!  " 

She  turned  and  gazed,  unused  to  hear 

Sjch  language  in  that  lonely  glen, 
But  Mary  you  have  naught  to  fear. 

Though  smiled  on  by  two  wandering  men. 

Her  simple  heart  could  not  but  feel 

The  words  we  spoke  were  free  from  guile; 

She  stooped,  she  blushed,  she  fixed  her  wheel — 
'Tis  all  in  vain,  she  can't  but  smile! 

Just  like  sweet  April's  dawn  appears 

Her  modest  face — I  see  it  yet, 
And  though  I  lived  a  hundred  years, 

Methinks  I  never  could  forget. 


52  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

For  such  another  smile,  I  vow, 

Though  loudly  beats  the  midnight  rain, 

I'd  take  the  mountain  side  e'en  now, 
And  walk  to  lone  Loch  Dan  again! 

Sir  Samuel  Ferguson. 


TO  MARY. 

(on  receiving  her  picture). 

THIS  faint  resemblance  of  thy  charms. 
Though  storng  as  mortal  art  could  give, 
My  constant  heart  of  fears  disarms, 
Revives  my  hope,  and  bids  me  live. 

Here  I  can  trace  the  locks  of  gold, 

Which  round  thy  snowy  forehead  wave, 

The  cheek,  which  sprung  from  Beauty's  mold, 
The  lips  which  made  me  Beauty's  slave. 

Here  I  can  trace — ah,  no!  that  eye. 
Whose  azure  floats  in  liquid  fire, 

Must  all  the  painter's  art  defy 
And  bid  him  from  the  task  retire. 

Here  1  behold  its  beauteous  hue; 

But  whcre's  the  beam  so  sweetly  straying, 
Whicli  gave  a  lustre  to  its  blue, 

Like  Luna  o'er  the  ocean  playing. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  53 

Sweet  copy !  far  more  dear  to  me, 

Lifeless,  unfeeling  as  thou  art, 
Than  all  the  living  forms  could  be. 

Save  her,  who  placed  thee  next  my  heart. 

She  placed  it,  sad,  with  needless  fear, 
Lest  time  might  shake  my  wavering  soul, 

Unconscious  that  her  image  there, 
Held  every  sense  in  fast  control. 

Through  hours,  through  years,  through  time,  'twill  cheer; 

My  hope,  in  gloomy  moments,  raise; 
In  life's  last  conflict  'twill  appear, 

And  meet  my  fond  expiring  gaze. 

Lord  Byron. 


54 


THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 


HEROD'S  LAMENT  FOR  MARIAMNE. 

The  following  poem,  by  Lord  Byron,  refers  to  the  historical  fact 
that  King  Herod,  having  in  a  fit  of  jealous  passion  ordered  the 
execution  of  his  Queen  Mariamne,  on  the  charge  of  treason,  was 
afterwards  seized  with  uncontrollable  remorse:  knowing  that  she 
was  entirely  innocent,  of  that  or  any  other  crime. 

OH!  Mariamne!  now  for  thee 
The  heart  for  which  thou  bled'st  is  bleeding; 
Revenge  is  lost  in  agony, 

And  wild  remorse  to  rage  succeeding. 
Oh,  Mariamne!  where  art  thou  ? 

Thou  canst  not  hear  my  bitter  pleading: 
Ah!  could' St  thou — thou  would' st  pardon  now, 
Though  Heaven  were  to  my  prayer  unheeding. 

And  is  she  dead  ? — and  did  they  dare 

Obey  my  phrenzy's  jealous  raving? 
My  wrath  but  doomed  my  own  despair. 

The  sword  that  smote  her's  o'er  me  waving. 
But  thou  art  cold  my  murdered  love! 

And  this  dark  heart  is  vainly  craving 
For  her  who  soars  alone  above, 

And  leaves  my  soul,  unworthy  saving. 

She's  gone  who  shared  my  diadem; 

She  sunk,  with  her  my  joys  entombing, 
I  swept  that  flower  from  Judah's  stem, 

Whose  leaves  for  me  alone  were  l)lonming. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

And  mine's  the  guilt,  and  mine's  the  hell, 

This  bosom  desolating — dooming; 
And  I  have  earned  those  tortures  well 

Which  unconsumed,  are  still  consuming. 

Hon.  George  Noel  Byron. 


55 


BLUE-EYED  MARY. 

(an    old    song    to    GERMAN    MUSIC). 

"/^^^OMF^  tell  me  blue-eyed  stranger 
Vs,.^     Say  whither  dost  thou  roam  ? 
O'er  this  wide  world  a  stranger 
Hast  thou  no  friends,  no  home?  " 
"  They  called  me  'blue-eyed  Mary,' 

When  friends  and  fortune  smiled 
But  ah!   how  fortunes  vary 
I  now  am  sorrow's  child." 

"  Come  here,  I'll  buy  thy  flowers, 

And  ease  thy  hapless  lot, 
Still  wet  with  vernal  showers 
I'll  buy  'forget-me-not'  " 

"  Kind  sir,  then  take  these  posies 

They're  fading  like  my  youth 
But  never,  like  these  roses 
Shall  wither  Mary's  truth." 


56  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

"  Look  up,  thou  poor  forsaken, 
I'll  give  thee  house  and  home, 
And  if  I'm  not  mistaken, 

Thou' It  never  wish  to  roam." 

"  Once  more  I'm  'Happy  Mary' 
Once  more  has  fortune  smiled; 
Who  ne'er  from  virtue  vary 
May  yet  be  Fortune's  child. 


"O  MARY!    CALL  THE  CATTLE  HOME." 

(or  marv's  fate  on  the  sands  of  dee), 

OMARYi  go  and  call  the  cattle  home, 
And  call  the  cattle  home, 
And  call  the  cattle  home 

Across  the  sands  of  Dee. 
The  western  wind  was  wild  and  dank 
The  western  wind  was  wild  and  dank 
Was  wild  and  dank  with  foam  ; 
And  all  alone  went  she. 

The  creeping  tide  came  up  along  the  sand, 
And  o'er,  and  o'er  the  sand, 
And  round,  and  round  the  sand, 
As  far  as  eye  could  see; 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  57 

The  blinding  mist  came  pouring  down, 
The  blinding  mist  came  pouring  down, 
Game  down  and  hid  the  land, 
And  never  home  came  she! 

Oh!  is  it  weed,  or  fish,  or  floating  hair! 
A  tress  o'  golden  hair! 
O'  drowned  maiden's  hair, 

Above  the  nets  at  sea  ? 
Was  never  weed  or  fish  that  shone, 
That  shone  so  fair 

Among  the  stakes  on  Dee! 

They  rowed  her  in  across  the  rolling  foam. 
The  cruel,  crawling  foam, 
The  cruel,  hungry  foam, 

To  her  grave  beside  the  sea; 
But  still  the  boatmen  hear  her  call 
But  still  the  boatmen  hear  her  call 
Call  the  catde  home 

Across  the  sands  o'  Dee. 

Charles  Kingsley. 


58  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


M 


A  DAY  DREAM  OF  MARY. 


Y  eyes  make  pictures  when  they're  shut; 
I  see  a  fountain  large  and  fair, 


A  willow,  and  a  ruined  hut, 

And  thee,  and  me,  and  Mary  there. 

O!  Mary  make  thy  gentle  lap  our  pillow. 

Bend  o'er  us  like  a  bower  my  beautiful  green  willow! 

A  wild  rose  roofs  the  ruined  shed 

And  that  and  summer  will  agree; 
And  lo!    where  Mary  leans  her  head 
Two  dear  names  carved  upon  the  tree: 

And  Mary's  tears  they  are  not  tears  of  sorrow, 

Our  sister  and  our  friends  will  both  be  here  to-morrow! 

#P  *Js  *J*  *(»  'I*  'T* 

Thine  eye-lash  on  my  cheek  doth  play 

'Tis  Mary's  hand  upon  my  brow! 
But  let  me  check  this  tender  lay — 

Wliich  none  may  hear,  but  she  and  thou; 

Like  the  still  hive  at  quiet  midnight  humming, 
Murmur  it  to  yourselves  ye  two  beloved  women! 

Samuel  T.  Coleridge. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  59 


MARY'S  TEAR. 

(a  quaint  fancy  of  crasiiaw's). 

WHAT  bright,  soft  thing  is  this, 
Sweet  Mary  ?  thy  foir  eyes  expense  ? 
A  moist  spark  it  is. 

A  watery  diamond!  from  whence 
The  very  term  I  think  was  found 
The  water  of  a  diamond ! 

O  'tis  not  a  tear, 

'Tis  a  star,  about  to  drop 
From  thine  eye,  its  sphere; 

The  sun  will  stoop  and  take  it  up. 
Proud  will  his  sister  be,  to  wear 
This,  thine  eye's  jewel  in  her  ear! 
*****  = 

Fair  drop,  why  quakest  thou  so  ? 

'Cause  thou  straight  must  lay  thy  head 
In  the  dust?     O  no. 

The  dust  shall  never  be  thy  bed. 
A  pillow  for  thee  will  I  brin^, 
Stuffed  with  down  of  angeV  s  wing. 

Thus,  carried  up  on  high 

(For  to  Heaven  thou  must  go). 
Sweetly  thou  shalt  lie, 

And  in  soft  slumbers  bathe  thy  woe; 


6o  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Till  the  singing  orbs  awake  thee, 

And  one  of  their  bright  chorus  make  thee! 

There  thyself  shalt  be 

An  eye;  but  not  a  weeping  one, 
Yet  I  doubt  of  thee, 

Whether  thou  hadst  rather  there  have  shone. 
An  eye  of  Heaven;  or  still  shine  here 
In  the  Heaven  of  Mary's  eye,  a  tear? 


THE  DEATH  OF  MARY. 

IF  I  had  thought  thou  could' st  have  died, 
I  might  not  weep  for  thee, 
But  I  forgot  when  by  thy  side 

That  thou  could' st  mortal  be; 
It  never  through  my  mind  had  passed. 

That  Time  would  ere  be  o'er — 
When  I  on  thee  should  look  my  last. 
And  thou  should' st  smile  no  more. 

And  still  upon  that  face  I  look 

And  think  'twill  smile  again; 
And  still  the  thought  I  can  not  l)rook 

That  I  must  look  in  vain; 
But  when  I  speak,  thou  dost  not  say 

What  thou  nc  cr  left  tinsaid; 
And  now  I  feel,  as  well  I  may 

Sweet  Mary — thou  art  dead. 

Charles  Wolfe. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  6i 


AN   EPITAPH   ON   MARY   DUTCHESS  OF 
NORTHUMBERLAND. 

UNDERNEATH  this  sable  hearse 
Lies,  the  subject  of  all  verse, 
Sidney's  sister,  Pembroke's  mother 
Death!  ere  thou  hast  slain  another, 
Learned,  fair  and  good  as  she, 
Time  shall  throw  a  dart  at  thee! 

The  above  lines,  as  they  are  themselves  deathless,  defy  Death; 
they  were  written  by  Johnson  on  Mary,  daughter  of  Sir  Henry  Sid- 
ney, and  wife  of  John  Dudley,  Duke  of  Northumberland. 


62  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


TO  MARY  UNWIN. 

MARY,  I  want  a  lyre  with  other  strings; 
Such  aid  from  Heaven  as  some  have  feigned  to  draw- 
An  eloquence  scarce  given  to  mortals,  new 
And  undefiled  by  praise  of  meaner  things! 
That  'ere  through  age  or  woe  I  shed  my  wings, 
I  may  record  thy  worth  with  honor  due 
In  verse  as  musical  as  thou  art  true — 
Verse  that  immortalizes  whom  it  sings! 

But  thou  hast  little  need.     There  is  a  Book 

By  seraphs  writ  with  beams  of  heavenly  light; 
On  which  the  eyes  of  God,  not  rarely  look 
A  chronicle  of  actions  just  and  bright! 

There  all  thy  deeds,  my  faithful  Mary  shine. 
And  since  thou  own'st  that  praise,  I  spare  thee  mine. 

William  Cowper. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  63 


TO    MARY    DEPARTED. 

I  SAW  thy  form  in  youthful  prime, 
Nor  thought  that  pale  decay 
Would  steal  before  the  steps  of  Time, 

And  waste  its  bloom  away,  Mary! 
Yet  still  thy  features  wore  that  light, 
Which  fleets  not  with  the  breath; 
And  life  ne'er  looked  more  truly  bright 
Than  in  thy  smile  of  death,  Mary! 

As  streams  that  run  o'er  golden  mines, 

Yet  humbly,  calmly  glide, 
Nor  seem  to  know  the  wealth  that  shines 

Within  their  gentle  tide,  Mary ! 
So  veiled  beneath  the  simplest  guise, 

Thy  radient  genius  shone. 
And  that  which  charmed  all  other  eyes 

Seemed  worthless  in  thine  own,  Mary! 

If  souls  could  always  dwell  alone, 

Thou  ne'er  had'st  left  that  sphere. 
Or  could  we  keep  the  souls  we  love. 

We  ne'er  had'st  lost  thee  here,  Mary! 
Though  many  a  gifted  mind  we  meet, 

Though  fairest  forms  we  see, 
To  live  with  them  is  far  less  sweet 

Than  to  remember  thee,  Mary! 


64  THE   UNIVERSAL    NAME. 


HER   SMILE   I   SHALL   NEARER  FORGET. 

FAREWELL,  my  dear  Mary,  the  beams  of  thy  beauty 
No  longer  shall  brighten  the  path  I  pursue, 
For  loud  on  the  blast  rolls  the  mandate  of  duty, 

And  glory  bids  pleasure  and  Mary  adieu; 
But  though,  lovely  maid,  it  seems  madness  to  lose  thee, 

Yet  absence  shall  soften  the  sigh  of  regret. 
For  memory  pledges,  when  fondly  it  woos  thee. 
Thy  smile,  thy  sweet  smile,  I  shall  never  forget. 

Farewell,  my  first  love,  but  the  tear  that's  now  falling 

Preserve  as  a  relic,  a  relic  from  me; 
And  each  lonely  hour  my  affection  recalling. 

That  heart-drop  of  sorrow  thy  lover  shall  be; 
And  when  thou  hast  brought  my  lost  image  before  thee, 

Let  memory  soften  the  sigh  of  regret. 
For  the  tear  shall  declare  I  must  ever  adore  thee, 

And  thy  smile,  thy  sweet  smile,  I  shall  never  forget. 

Farewell,  then  forever,  the  night  star  that  listens, 

My  vows  may  record  in  the  temples  above 
And  the  last  parting  tear,  in  the  moonbeam  that  glistens. 

Shall  stamp  as  a  seal,  the  sweet  bond  of  my  love; 
For  I  swear,  till  the  night  of  the  tomb  overtake  me, 

And  the  sun  of  my  life  .shall  forever  be  set. 
My  fondness  for  Mary  shall  never  forsake  me 

And  her  smile,  her  sweet  smile,  I  shall  never  forget! 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  65 


MARY'S  TRIBUTE   OF  TEARS. 

O!  MARY,  when  morn  breaks  and  brightens  the  hour, 
And  gilds  the  green  waves  of  the  sea, 
My  mem'ry  wonders  away  to  the  bower 

That  was  sacred  to  love  and  to  thee; 
And  then  my  sad  spirit  doth  mournfully  rove, 

Round  the  spot  to  my  bosom  so  dear, 
Fondly  tracing  the  scenes  of  our  earliest  love, 
Till  remembrance  awakens — the  tear. 

O!  Mary,  whene'er  I  see  night  coming  on. 

And  the  sunbeams  are  hast'ning  away, 
I  think  of  the  scenes  that  forever  are  gone. 

And  sunk,  like  the  orb  of  the  day; 
Then,  then  my  sad  spirit  doth  mournfully  rove, 

Round  the  spot  to  my  bosom  so  dear. 
Fondly  tracing  each  scene  of  our  earliest  love, 

Till  remembrance  awakens — the  tear. 

O!  Mary,  whenever  the  moon  I  behold 

As  in  splendor  she  sails  through  the  sky, 
I  think,  oh!  how  swift  the  bright  seasons  have  rolled. 

And  how  fast  the  soft  pleasures  flew  by; 
And  then  my  sad  spirit  doth  mournfully  rove 

Round  the  spot  to  my  bosom  so  dear, 
Fondly  tracing  each  scene  of  our  earliest  love. 

Till  remembrance  awakens — the  tear. 


66  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


DESPAIR   FOR   MARY. 

(air:  gramachee). 
!  TAKE  me  to  yon  sunny  isle 


o 


That  stands  in  Fortha's  sea, 
For  there  all  lonely,  I  may  weep 

Since  tears  my  lot  must  be. 
The  caverned  rocks  alone  shall  hear 

My  anguish  and  my  woe, 
But  can  their  echoes  Mary  bring  ? 

Ah!  no,  no,  no! 

I'll  wander  by  the  silent  shore. 

Or  climb  the  rocky  steep, 
And  list  to  ocean  murmering 

The  music  of  the  deej); 
But  when  the  soft  moon  lights  the  wave 

In  evening's  silver  glow. 
Shall  Mary  meet  me  'ncath  its  light 

Ah!  no,  no,  no! 

I'll  speak  of  her  to  every  flower — 

And  lovely  flowers  are  there, 
They'll  maybe  bow  their  heads  and  weep 

For  she,  like  them  was  fair; 
And  every  bird  I'll  teach  a  song 

A  plaintive  song  of  woe. 
But  Mary,  can  she  hear  their  strains  .'* 

Ah!  no,  no,  no! 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  67 


MARY   WILL   SMILE   AGAIN. 

THE  morn  was  fresh,  and  pure  the  gale, 
When  Mary  from  her  cot  a  rover, 
Plucked  many  a  wild  rose  of  the  vale 

To  bind  the  temples  of  her  lover. 
As  near  his  little  farm  she  strayed 

Where  birds  of  love  were  ever  praising, 
She  saw  her  William  in  the  shade — 

The  arms  of  ruthless  war  preparing. 
"Though  now  "  he  cried  "  I  seek  the  hostile  plain, 
Mary  shall  smile,  and  all  be  fair  again." 

She  seized  his  hand,  and  "Ah!  "  she  cried 

"  Wilt  thou,  to  camps  and  war  a  stranger. 
Desert  thy  Mary's  faithful  side, 

And  bare  thy  life  to  every  danger  ? 
Yet  go,  brave  youth !  to  arm  away ! 

My  maiden  hands  for  fight  shall  dress  thee, 
And  when  the  drum  beats  far  away 

I'll  drop  a  silent  tear  and  bless  thee." 
Return' d  with  honor  from  the  hostile  plain, 
Mary  will  smile,  and  all  be  fair  again. 

"  The  bugles  through  the  forest  wind, 

The  woodland  soldiers  call  to  battle, 
Be  some  protecting  angel  kind. 

And  guard  thy  life  when  cannons  rattle!  " 


68  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

She  sung — and  as  the  rose  appears 
In  sunshine,  when  the  storm  is  over, 

A  smile  beamed  sweetly  through  her  tears- 
The  blush  of  promise  to  her  lover; 

Returned  in  triumph  from  the  hostile  plain 

All  shall  be  fair  and  Mary  smile  again. 


MARY    CHUISLE.=== 

Among  the  ancient  Bardic  poetry  of  Celtic  tradition  is  found 
the  following  forcible  thougli  crude  thoughts  of  an  unknown 
author:  for  strong  imagry  tlie  last  line  is  unsurpassed  by  any  poet, 
in  any  language. 

OMARY  CHUISLE!  blossom  of  fairness, 
Branch  of  generousness,  westward  from  the  Nair, 
Whose  voice  is  sweeter  than  the  cuckoo's  on  the  branch, 
You  have  left  me  in  the  anguish  of  death. 

The  candle  is  not  close  to  me,  the  table  nor  the  company, 
From  the  soul-faintness  you  cause  me:  O!  star  of  woman. 
Majestic  graceful  maid,  who  has  increased  my  woe, 
Alas,  that  I  am  without  your  cloak  till  dawn! 

I  have  walked  to  Ardagh  and  Kinsale, 

To  Drogheda  and  back  again. 

To  Carlow  and  Downpatrick, — 

I  have  not  looked  upon  the  like  of  Mary. 


*Chuisle— a  term  of  endearment. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  69 

High  coaches  have  I  seen  and  white  horses, 

And  English  cavahers  fighting  for  their  ladies; 

If  you  go  home  from  me  Mary — "  safe  home  to  you," 

Your  shadoiv  would  make  light  without  the  sun! 

(Trans,  for  "Poets  and  Poetry  of  Ireland"). 


A    MONASTIC   TRIBUTE   TO    MARY. 

(from    the    CELTIC). 


M 


URDOCH,  whet  thy  knife,    that  we  may  shave  our 
crowns  to  the  Great  King: 
Let  us  sweetly  give  our  vow,  and  the  hair  of  both  our  heads 

to  the  Trinity. 
"  No:  I  will  shave  mine  to  Mary — this  is  the  doing  of  a  true 

heart, 
To  Mary  shave  thou  these  locks,  thou  well-formed,  soft-eyed 

man. 

^;  *  >i«  *  *  * 

Seldom  hast  thou  had,  handsome  man,  a  knife  on  thy  hair, 

to  shave  it: 
Oftener  has  a  sweet,  soft  queen  combed  her  hair  beside  thee; 
Ua  Chais  and  I  strove  in  a  race — these  two  knives,  one  to 

each, 
Were  given  us  by  Duncan  Cairbreach ; 
No  knives  of  knives  were  better;  shave  gently  then  Murdoch. 


--0  THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

;!;  H<  *  *  *  * 

Preserve  our  shaved  heads  from  cold  and  from  heat,  gentle 

daughter  of  Jodehim;  (Joseph) 
Preserve  us  in  the  land  of  heat,  softest  branch  of  Mary." 

Bishop  Ewing's  Translation. 


MARIE  LAGHAC. 

(from    the    GAELIC). 

YOUNG  was  I  and  Mary 
In  the  windings  of  Glensmeoil, 
When  came  that  imp  of  Venus, 
And  caught  us  with  his  wile. 
And  pierced  us  with  his  arrows 

That  we  thrilled  in  every  pore, 
And  loved  as  mortals  never  loved 
On  this  green  earth  before. 

chorus: 

O!  my  bonnie  Mary, 

My  dainty  love,  and  ciuccn, 
The  fairest,  rarest,  Mary 

On  earth  was  ever  seen. 
O!  my  queenly  Mary 

That  made  a  king  of  men. 
To  call  thee  my  own,  Mary, 

Born  in  the  bonnie  glen. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Oftimes  myself  and  Mary 

Strayed  up  the  bonnie  glen; 
Our  hearts  as  pure  and  innocent 

As  little  children  then. 
Boy  Cupid  finely  taught  us, 

To  dally  and  to  toy, 
When  the  shade  fell  from  the  green  tree. 

And  the  sun  was  in  the  sky. 

Chorus. — O!  my  bonnie  Mary,  &c. 

If  all  the  wealth  of  Albyn 

Were  mine,  and  treasures  rare. 
What  boots  all  gold  and  silver 

If  the  sweet  love  be  not  there? 
More  dear  to  me  than  rubies 

In  deepest  veins  that  shine, 
Is  one  kiss  from  the  lips 

That  rightly  I  call  mine. 

Chorus. — O!  my  bonnie  Mary,  &c. 

Thy  bosom's  heaving  whiteness 

With  beauty  overbrims, 
Like  swan  upon  the  waters 

When  gentliest  it  swims; 
Like  cotton  on  the  moorland, 

Thy  skin  is  soft  and  fine. 
Thy  neck  is  like  the  sea  gull, 

When  dipping  in  the  brine. 

Chorus. — O!  my  bonnie  Mary,  &c. 


71 


72  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

The  locks  about  thy  dainty  ear, 

Do  richly  curl  and  twine; 
Dame  Nature  rarely  grew  a  wealth 

Of  ringlets,  like  to  thine. 
There  needs  no  hand  of  hireling, 

To  twist  and  plait  thy  hair. 
But  where  it  grew,  it  winds  and  falls, 

In  wavey  beauty  there. 

Chorus. — O!  my  bonnie  Mary,  &c. 

Like  snow  upon  the  mountains, 

Thy  teeth  are  pure  and  white; 
Thy  breath  is  like  the  cinnamon 

Thy  mouth  buds  with  delight; 
Thy  cheeks  are  like  the  cherries. 

Thine  eyelids  soft  and  fair. 
And  smooth  thy  brow,  untaught  to  frown, 

Beneath  thy  golden  hair. 

Chorus. — O!  my  bonnie  Mary,  &c. 

The  pomp  of  mighty  Kaisers 

Our  state  doth  not  surpass, 
When  'neath  the  lofty  coppice 

We  lie  upon  the  grass; 
The  purple  flowers  around  us 

Outspread  their  rich  array, 
Where  the  lusty  mountain  streamlet, 

Is  leaj)ing  from  the  brae. 

Chorus. — O!  my  l)onnie  Mary,  &€. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  73 

Nor  harp,  nor  pipe,  nor  organ, 

From  touch  of  cunning  men 
Made  music  half  so  eloquent 

As  our  hearts  thrilled  with  then; 
When  the  blithe  lark,  lightly  soaring. 

And  the  mavis  on  the  spray, 
And  the  cuckoo  in  the  greenwood. 

Sang  hymns  to  greet  the  May. 

Chorus. — O!  my  bonnie  Mary,  &c. 

Prof.  John  Stuart  Blackie. 


THE   EMIGRANT'S    FAREWELL    TO    HIS 

MARY. 

I'M  sitting  on  the  stile,  Mary, 
Where  we  sat  side  by  side, 
On  a  bright  May  morning  long  ago. 

When  first  you  were  my  bride. 
The  corn  was  springing  fresh  and  green, 

And  the  lark  sang  loud  and  high. 
And  the  red  was  on  your  lip,  Mary, 
And  the  love  light  in  your  eye. 

The  place  is  little  changed,  Mary, 

The  day's  as  bright  as  then; 
The  lark's  loud  song  is  in  my  ear. 

And  the  corn  is  green  again. 


74  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

But  I  miss  the  soft  clasp  of  your  hand, 
And  your  warm  breath  on  my  cheek, 

And  I  still  keep  listening  for  the  words 
You  never  more  may  speak. 

'Tis  but  a  step  down  yonder  lane, 

The  village  church  stands  there, 
The  church  where  we  were  wed,  Mary, 

I  see  the  spire  from  here. 
But  the  graveyard  lies  between,  Mary, 

And  my  step  might  break  your  rest, 
Where  I've  laid  you  darling,  down  to  sleep 

With  your  baby  on  your  breast. 

I'm  very  lonely  now,  Mary, 

For  the  poor  make  no  new  friends; 
But  O,  they  love  them  better  still 

The  io^^  our  Father  sends! 
And  you  were  all  my  pride,  Mary, 

My  blessing  and  my  pride; 
There's  nothing  left  to  care  for  now, 

Since  my  poor  Mary  died. 

I'm  bidding  you  a  long  farewell, 

My  Mary  kind  and  true; 
But  I'll  not  forget  you,  darling, 

In  the  land  I'm  going  to. 
They  say  there's  bread  and  work  for  all. 

And  the  sun  shines  always  there. 
But  I'll  not  forget  my  darling, 

Were  she  fifty  times  less  fair. 

Lady  Dufferin. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


75 


MAIRE   BHAN    ASTOR.=== 

IN  a  valley  far  away, 
With  my  Maire  bhan  astor, 
Short  would  be  the  summer  day 

Ever  loving  more  and  more; 
Winter  days  would  all  grow  long, 

With  the  light  her  heart  would  pour, 
With  her  kisses  and  her  song, 
And  her  loving  matt  go  leor.\ 
Fond  is  Maire  bhan  astor, 
Fair  is  Maire  bhan  astor, 
Sweet  as  ripple  on  the  shore, 
Sings  my  Maire  bhan  astor. 

Oh!  her  sire  is  very  proud, 

And  her  mother  cold  as  stone; 
But  her  brother  bravely  vowed. 

She  should  be  my  bride  alone; 
For  he  knew  I  loved  her  well. 

And  he  knew  she  loved  me  too, 
So  he  sought  their  pride  to  quell 
But  'twas  all  in  vain  to  sue. 
True  is  Maire  bhan  astor. 
Tried  is  Maire  bhan  astor. 
Had  I  wings,  I'd  never  soar 
From  my  Maire  bhan  astor. 


*Fair  Mary,  my  treasure,      t  Much  plenty,  or  in  abundance. 


76  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

There  are  lands  where  manly  toil 
Surely  reaps  the  crop  it  sows; 
Glorious  woods  and  teaming  soil, 

Where  the  broad  Missouri  flows; 
Through  the  trees  the  smoke  shall  rise, 

From  our  hearth  with  mail  go  leor; 
There  shall  shine  the  happy  eyes 
Of  my  Maire  bhan  astor. 

Mild  is  Maire  bhan  astor. 
Mine  is  Maire  bhan  astor, 
Saints  will  watch  about  the  door, 
Of  my  Maire  bhan  astor! 

Thomas  Davis. 


LOVELY    MARY    DONNELLY. 

O  LOVELY  Mary  Donnelly,  it's  you  I  love  the  best! 
If  fifty  girls  were  round  you,  I'd  hardly  see  the  rest. 
Be  what  it  may  the  time  of  day,  the  place  be  where  it  will. 
Sweet  looks  of  Mary  Donnelly,  they  bloom  before  me  still. 
Her  eyes  like  mountain  water  that's  flowing  on  a  rock, 
How  clear  they  are,  how  dark  they  are,  and  they  give  me 

many  a  shock. 
Red  rowans  warm  in  sunshine,  and  wetted  with  a  sliower, 
Could  ne'er  express  the  charming   lij)   that  has  me   in   its 

power. 
O  lovely  Mary  Donnelly,  it's  you  I  love  the  best! 
If  fifty  girls  were  round  you,  I'd  hardly  see  the  rest. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


77 


The  dance  of  last  Whit- Monday  night  exceeded  all  before, 
No  pretty  girl  for  miles  around  was  missing  from  the  floor; 
But  Mary  kept  the  belt  of  love,  and  oh!  but  she  was  gay! 
She  danced  so  light,  she  sang  a  song  that  took  my  heart 

away. 
When  she  stood  up  for  dancing,  her  steps  were  so  complete 
The  music  nearly  ceased  itself,  to  listen  to  her  feet; 
The  fiddler  moaned  his  blindness,  he  heard  her  so  much 

praised, 
But  blessed  himself  he  wasn't  deaf,  when  once  her  voice  she 

raised. 
O  lovely  Mary  Donnelly,  it's  you  I  love  the  best! 
If  fifty  girls  were  round  you,  I'd  hardly  see  the  rest. 

O!  you're  the  flower  of  womankind  in  country  or  in  town; 

The  higher  I  exalt  you,  the  lower  I'm  cast  down. 

If  some   great   lord  should  come  this  way  and  see  your 

beauty  bright. 
And  you  become  his  lady,  I'd  own  it  was  but  right. 
O  might  we  live  together  in  lofty  palace  hall. 
Where  joyful  music  rises,  where  scarlet  curtains  fall! 
Or  might  we  live  together  in  a  cottage  mean  and  small. 
With  sods  of  grass  the  only  roof,  and  mud  the  only  wall! 
O  lovely  Mary  Donnelly,  your  beauty's  my  distress. 
Its  far  too  beauteous  to  be  mine,  but  I'll  never  wish  it  less; 
The  proudest  place  would  fit  your  face,  and  I  am  poor  and 

low, 
But  blessings  be  about  you  dear,  wherever  you  may  go, 

William  Allingham. 


78  THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 


THE   FOUR   MARIES. 

(a     scotch     ballad    attributed    to    MARY     HAMILTON, 
MAID    OF    HONOR   TO    QUEEN   MARIE   STUART). 

LAST  night  the  Queen  had  four  Maries, 
This  night  there'll  be  but  three; 
There  was  Mary  Beton,  and  Mary  Seton, 
An'  Mary  Carmichael  an'  me. 

Oh,  little  did  my  mither  think, 

When  first  she  cradled  me, 
That  I  should  dee  sae  far  from  hame, 

An'  dee  on  the  gallows  tree. 

I  charge  ye,  all  ye  mariners, 

When  ye  sail  o'er  the  foam. 
Let  neither  my  father  or  mither  get  wit — 

But  that  I'm  coming  home. 

For  if  my  father  an'  mither  get  wit, 

And  my  bold  brithers  three, 
O  mickle  would  be  the  gude  red  bluid, 

This  day  would  be  spilt  for  mc. 

They'll  tic  a  napkin  round  my  een. 

An'  they'll  no  let  me  sec  to  dee. 
An'  they'll  ne'er  let  on  to  my  father  an'  mither. 

But  I'm  away  o'er  the  sea. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


79 


I  wish  I  could  lie  in  our  ain  kirkyard, 

Aneath  the  auld  yew  tree: 
Where  we  pu'd  the  gowans,  an'  thread  the  rowans — 

My  brithers,  my  sisters  and  me. 

But  little  care  I  for  a  nameless  grave, 

If  I've  the  hope  for  eternity: 
So  that  the  faith  o'  the  deeing  thief: 

May  be  granted  through  faith  to  me. 


HIGHLAND    MARY. 

YE  banks  and  braes  and  streams  around 
The  castle  o'  Montgomery! 
Green  be  your  woods  and  fair  your  flowers, 

Your  waters  never  drum' lie. 
There  simmer  first  unfaulds  her  robes 

And  there  the  longest  tarry; 
For  there  I  took  the  last  fareweel 
O'  my  sweet  Highland  Mary. 

How  sweetly  bloomed  the  gay  green  birk, 
How  rich  the  hawthorns  blossom, 

As  underneath  their  fragant  shade 
I  clasped  her  to  my  bosom! 


So  THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

The  golden  hours  on  angel  wings, 

Flew  o'er  me  and  my  dearie; 
For  dear  to  me  as  light  and  life 

Was  my  sweet  Highland  Mary. 

W'i  mony  a  vow  and  locked  embrace, 

Our  parting  was  fu'  tender; 
And  pledging  oft  to  meet  again, 

We  tore  oursel's  asunder; 
But  oh!  fell  Death's  untimely  frost, 

That  nipt  my  flower  sae  early! 
Now  greens  the  sod,  and  caulds  the  clay 

That  wraps  my  Highland  Mary. 

O  pale,  pale  now,  those  rosy  lips 

I  oft  hae  kissed  sae  fondly! 
And  closed  for  aye  the  sparkling  glance 

That  dwelt  on  me  sae  kindly; 
And  mould' ring  now  in  silent  dust, 

That  heart  that  lo'ed  me  dearly! 
But  still  within  my  bosom's  core 

Shall  live  my  Highland  Mary. 

Robert  Burns. 


THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME.  8i 


AFTON    WATER. 

(addressed  to  his  early  love  mary). 

FLOW  gently  sweet  Afton  among  thy  green  braes, 
Flow  gently  I'll  sing  thee  a  song  in  thy  praise; 
My  Mary's  asleep  by  thy  murmering  stream; 
Flow  gently  sweet  Afton,  disturb  not  her  dream. 

How  lofty  sweet  Afton,  thy  neighboring  hills, 
Far  marked  with  the  courses  of  dear  winding  rills; 
There  daily  I  wander  as  noon  rises  high, 
My  flocks  and  my  Mary's  sweet  cot  in  my  eye. 

How  pleasant  thy  banks,  and  green  valleys  below. 
Where  wild  in  the  woodlands  the  primroses  blow; 
There  oft,  as  mild  ev'ning  sweeps  over  the  lea, 
The  sweet  scented  birks  shade  my  Mary  and  me. 

Thy  crystal  stream  Afton,  how  lovely  it  glides, 
And  winds  by  the  cot  where  my  Mary  resides; 
How  wanton  thy  waters,  her  snowy  feet  lave. 
As  gath'ring  sweet  flowerets  she  stems  thy  clear  wave. 

Flow  gently  sweet  Afton,  among  thy  green  braes, 
Flow  gently  sweet  river,  the  theme  of  my  lays; 
My  Mary's  asleep  by  thy  murmering  stream. 
Flow  gently  sweet  Afton,  disturb  not  her  dream. 

Robert  Burns. 


82  THE   UNIVERSAL   NABIE. 


TO   MARY   IN    HEAVEN. 

THOU  ling' ring  star,  with  less'ning  ray, 
That  lov'st  to  greet  the  early  morn, 
Again  thou  usher' st  in  the  day. 

When  Mary  from  my  soul  was  torn. 
O  Mary!  dear  departed  shade, 

Where  is  thy  place  of  blissful  rest  ? 
See' St  thou  thy  lover  lowly  laid, 

Hear'st  thou  the  groans  that  rend  his  breast? 

That  sacred  hour  can  I  forget. 

Can  I  forget  the  hallowed  grove  ? 
Where  by  the  winding  Ayr  we  met 

To  live  one  day  of  parting  love! 
Eternity  can  not  efface 

Those  records  dear  of  transports  past, 
Thy  image  at  our  last  embrace — 

Ah  little  thought  we,  'twas  our  last! 

Ayr,  gurgling  kissed  his  pebbled  shore. 

O'er  hung  with  wild  woods  thick'ning  green. 
The  fragrant  birch  and  hawthorne  hoar, 

Twined  amorous  'round  the  raptured  scene; 
The  flowers  sprang  wanton  to  be  pressed. 

The  birds  sang  love  on  every  spray; 
Till  too,  too  soon  the  glowing  west 

Proclaim' d  the  speed  of  winged  day. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  83 

Still  o'er  these  scenes  my  mem'ry  wakes, 

And  fondly  broods  with  miser  care! 
Time,  but  th'  impression  stronger  makes, 

As  streams  their  channels  deeper  wear, 
My  Mary,  dear  departed  shade! 

Where  is  thy  place  of  blissful  rest  ? 
See'st  thou  thy  lover  lowly  laid, 

Hear' St  thou  the  groans  that  rend  his  breast? 

Robert  Burns. 


WILL  YE  GO  TO  THE  INDIES  MY  MARY  ? 

WILL  ye  go  to  the  Indies,  my  Mary 
And  leave  auld  Scotia's  shore  ? 
Will  ye  go  to  the  Indies,  my  Mary, 
Across  the  Atlantic's  roar? 

0  sweet  grows  the  lime  and  the  orange 
And  the  apple  on  the  pine; 

But  a'  the  charmes  o'  the  Indies, 
Can  never  equal  thine. 

1  hae  sworn  by  the  Heavens  to  my  Mary, 

I  hae  sworn  by  the  Heavens  to  be  true; 
And  sae  may  the  Heavens  forget  me 
When  I  forget  my  vow! 


84  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

O  plight  me  your  faith  my  Mary, 
And  plight  me  your  lilly- white  hand; 

O  plight  me  your  faith  my  Mary 
Before  I  leave  Scotia's  strand. 

We  hae  plighted  our  troth  my  Mary 

In  mutual  affection  to  join, 
And  curst  be  the  cause  that  shall  part  us, 

The  hour  and  the  moment  o'  time! 

Robert  Burns. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  85 


MY  BONNIE  MARY.-'= 

GO  fetch  to  me  a  pint  o'  wine 
And  fill  it  in  a  silver  tassie, 
That  I  may  drink  before  I  go 

A  service  to  my  bonnie  lassie; 
The  boat  rocks  at  the  pier  o'  Leith, 

Fu'  loud  the  wind  blaws  frae  the  Ferry, 
The  ship  rides  by  the  Berwick-law, 
And  I  maun  leave  my  bonnie  Mary. 

The  trumpets  sound,  the  banners  fly, 

The  glittering  spears  are  ranked  and  ready, 
The  shouts  o'  war  are  heard  afar, 

The  battle  closes  deep  and  bloody: 
It's  not  the  roar  o'  sea  or  shore. 

Wad'  make  me  longer  wish  to  tarry; 
Nor  shouts  o'  war  thus  heard  afar, — 

It's  leaving  thee,  my  bonnie  Mary. 

Robert  Burns. 


*  Probably  some  transient  acquaintance  who  happened  to  strike  tlie  suscepti- 
ble poet's  fancy.  "Mary,"  seems  to  have  been  willi  Burns  as  with  many  poets  a 
favorite  name. 


86  THE  UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


WILL   YE   GO   TO   THE   HIGHLANDS, 
MY    MARY? 
(air:  gwe  bughts,  marion). 
ILL  ye  go  to  the  Highlan's,  my  Mary 


w 


And  visit  our  haughs  and  our  glens  ? 
There's  beauty  'mang  hills  o'  the  Highlan's, 
The  lass  in  the  Lowlands,  ne'  er  kens. 

'Tis  true  we've  few  cowslips  or  roses, 

Nae  lillies  grow  wild  on  the  lea; 
But  the  heather  its  sweet  scent  discloses, 

And  the  daisy's  as  sweet  to  the  'ee. 

See  yon  far  heathy  hills,  whare  they're  risin'. 

Whose  summits  are  shaded  wi'  blue; 
There  the  fleet  mountain  roes  are  lyin' , 

Or  feeding  their  fawns  love,  for  you. 

Right  sweet  are  our  scenes  in  the  gloamin'. 

When  shepherds  return  from  the  hill. 
Around  by  the  banks  o'  Loch  Lomon, 

While  bagpipes  are  soundin'  sae  shrill. 

Right  sweet  are  the  low-setting  sunbeams. 

That  point  o'er  the  quiv'ring  stream; 
But  sweeter  the  smiles,  o'  my  Mary, 

And  kinder  the  blinks  o'  her  een. 

Robert  Burns. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  87 


MARY    MORISON. 

OMARY  at  thy  window  be, 
It  is  the  wished,  the  trysted  hour. 
Those  smiles  and  glances  let  me  see, 

That  make  the  miser's  treasure  poor; 
How  blithely  wad  I  bide  the  stour, 

A  weary  slave  frae  sun  to  sun, 
Could  I  the  rich  reward  secure — 
The  lovely  Mary  Morison! 

Yestreen,  when  to  the  trembling  string. 

The  dance  ga'ed  thro'  the  lighted  pa'. 
To  thee  my  fancy  took  its  wing, 

I  sat  but  neither  heard  nor  saw, 
Tho'  this  was  fair,  and  that  was  braw; 

And  you  the  toast  of  a'  the  town 
I  sighed  and  said  among  them  a' , 

"  Ye  are  na  Mary  Morison!  " 

O  Mary  can'st  thou  wreck  his  peace 

Wha  for  thy  sake  would  gladly  dee  ? 
Or  can'st  thou  break  that  heart  of  his 

Whose  only  faut  is  loving  thee  ? 
If  love  for  love  thou  wilt  na  gie, 

At  least  be  pity  to  me  shown 
A  thought  ungentle  canna  be 

The  thought  o'  Mary  Morison ! 

Robert  Burns. 


88  THE  UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


THE  EMIGRANT'S  LETTER  TO  MARY. 

MY  young  heart's  love,  twelve  years  have  been 
A  century  to  me, 
I  have  not  seen  thy  smile,  nor  heard 

Thy  voice's  melody. 
The  many  hardships  I've  endured, 

Since  I  left  Larock  lea, 
I  must  not  tell,  for  it  would  bring 
The  salt  tear  in  thine  'ee. 

But  I  have  news,  and  happy  news, 

To  tell  unto  my  love — 
What  I  have  won,  to  me  more  dear, 

That  it  my  heart  can  prove. 
Its  thoughts,  unchanged,  still  it  is  true, 

And  surely  so  is  thine; 
Thou  never,  never  can'st  forget 

That  two  were  one — lang  syne! 

The  summer  sun  looks  on  the  tarn. 

And  on  the  primrose  brae, 
Where  wc,  in  days  of  innocence 

Were  wont  to  sport  and  play. 
And  I  among  the  mossy  sj^rings 

Wade  for  the  honey-blooms; 
For  thee,  the  rush  tiara  wove, 

Bedecked  with  lily  plumes. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  89 

When  on  the  ferney  knoll  we  sat, 

A  happy,  happy  pair, 
Thy  comely  cheek  laid  on  my  knee, 

I  braid  thy  golden  hair. 
Oh,  then  I  felt  the  holiest  thought 

That  entered  e'er  my  mind — 
If  Mary  was  to  be  to  me, 

Forever  true  and  kind. 

Though  fair  the  flowers  that  bloom  around 

My  dwelling  o'er  the  sea, 
Though  bright  the  streams,  and  green  the  bowers, 

They  are  not  so  to  me. 
I  hear  the  bulbuls  mellow  song, 

Upon  the  gorgeous  palm, 
The  sweet  chirp  of  the  feathered  bee 

Among  the  fields  of  baslm. 

But  there  are  no  old  country  birds, 

So  dear  to  childhood's  days — 
The  laveroch,  linnet,  thrush  and  lark. 

That  taught  us  love's  sweet  lays. 
And  when  thou  walk'st  alone,  to  think 

On  him  that's  o'er  the  sea. 
Their  cheerful,  soft  love-notes  will  tell, 

My  heart's  love-thoughts  to  thee. 

Let  joy  be  in  thy  leal  heart. 

And  bright  smiles  in  thy  'ee — 
The  bonnie  bark  is  In  the  bay; 

I'm  coming  home  to  thee! 


90 


THE  UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

I'm  coming  home  to  thee,  Mary, 

With  many  a  jewel  fine, 
And  I  will  lay  them  in  thy  lap, 

For  the  kiss  of  sweet  langsyne! 


AVE    MARIA. 

(the  outlaw's  prayer  to  mary). 

AVE  MARIA,  maiden  mild! 
Listen  to  a  maiden's  prayer; 
Thou  caii'st  hear  though  fi-om  the  wild, 

Thou  can' St  save  amid  despair. 
Safe  may  we  sleep  beneath  thy  care. 

Though  banish' d,  outcast  and  reviled, 
Maiden,  hear  a  maiden's  prayer, 
Mother,  hear  a  suppliant  child! 

Ave  Maria! 

Ave  Maria!  undefiled! 

The  flinty  couch  we  now  must  share, 
Shall  seem  with  down  of  cider  piled, 

If  thy  i)rotection  hover  there. 
The  murky  cavern's  heavy  air. 

Shall  breathe  of  balm  if  thou  has  smiled; 
Then  maiden  hear  a  maiden's  prayer, 

Mother  list  a  supj^liant  child! 

Ave  Maria! 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Ave  Maria!  stainless  styled! 

Foul  demons  of  the  earth  and  air, 
From  this,  their  wonted  haunt  exiled 

Shall  flee  before  thy  presence  fair, 
We  bow  us  to  our  lot  of  care, 

Beneath  thy  guidance,  reconciled; 
Hear  for  a  maid,  a  maiden's  prayer; 

And  for  a  father  hear  a  child ! 

Ave  Maria! 

Sir  Walter  Scott. 


91 


NORMAN'S   SONG   TO    MARY. 

(from  the  lady  of  the  lake). 

THE  heath  this  night  must  be  my  bed, 
The  bracken,  curtain  for  my  head, 
My  lullaby  the  warder's  tread. 

Far,  far  from  love  and  thee,  Mary! 

To-morrow  eve,  more  stilly  laid, 
My  couch  may  be  my  bluidy  plaid, 
My  vesper  song,  thy  wail  sweet  maid! 

It  will  not  waken  me,  Mary! 

I  may  not,  dare  not,  fancy  now, 

The  grief  that  clouds  thy  lovely  brow, 

I  dare  not  think  upon  my  vow. 

And  all  it  promised  me,  Mary! 


92  THE  UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

No  fond  regret  must  Norman  know, 
When  bursts  Clan-Alpin  on  the  foe, 
His  heart  must  be  like  bended  bow, 

His  foot,  Hke  arrow  free,  Mary! 

A  time  will  come  with  feeling  fraught. 
For  if  I  fall  in  battle  fought. 
The  hapless  lover's  dying  thought 

Shall  be  a  thought  on  thee,  Mary. 

And  if  return' d  from  conquer' d  foes; 
How  blythly  will  the  evening  close. 
How  sweet  the  linnet-song  repose 

To  my  young  bride  and  me,  Mary! 

Sir  Walter  Scott. 


MY   MARY   DEAR. 

(tune:    ANNIE    LAURIE). 

THE  gloamin'  star  was  showerin' 
Its  siller  glories  doun, 
And  nestled  in  its  mossy  lair 
The  lintie  slcepit  soun', 
The  lintie  sleepit  soun'. 
And  the  starnics  sparkled  clear, 
When  on  a  gowany  bank  I  sat, 
Aside  my  Mary  dear. 


THE    UNIVERSAL  NAME.  93 


The  burnie  wanders  eerie 

Roun'  rock  and  ruin'd  tower, 

By  mony  a  fairy  hillock 

And  niony  a  lanely  bower; 

Roun'  mony  a  lanely  bower, 

Love's  tender  tale  to  hear, 

Where  I  in  whisper' d  vows  ha'e  woo'd 

And  won  my  Mary  dear. 

Oh,  hallow' d  hours  o'  happiness 

Frae  me  forever  ta'en! 

Wi'  summer's  flow'ry  loveliness 

Ye  come  na'  back  again! 

Ye  come  na'  back  again, 

The  waefu'  heart  to  cheer, 

For  lang  the  greedy  grave  has  closed 

Aboun  my  Mary  dear! 


MARY. 

IN  life's  gay  morn  when  hope  beats  high, 
And  youthfu'  love's  endearing  tie. 
Gave  rapture  to  the  mutual  sigh. 
Within  the  arms  of  Mary, 
My  ain  dear  Mary; 
Nae  joys  beneath  the  vaulted  sky 
Could  equal  mine  wi'  Mary. 


94 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NA3IE. 

The  sacred  hours  like  moments  flew, 
Soft  transports  thrill' d  my  bosom  through, 
The  warl'  evanish' d  fra  my  view. 

Within  the  arms  of  Mary, 

My  ain  dear  Mary; 
Nae  glooming  cares  my  soul  e'er  knew, 

Within  the  arms  of  Mary. 

Young  fancy  spread  her  visions  gay. 
Love  fondly  view'd  the  fair  display, 
Hope  show'd  the  blissfu'  nuptial  day. 

And  I  was  rapt  with  Mary; 

My  ain  dear  Mary. 
The  flowers  of  Eden  strew' d  the  way 

That  led  me  to  my  Mary. 

But  life  is  now  a  dreary  waste, 
I  lanely  wander  sair  depress' d. 
For  cold  and  lifeless  is  that  breast 

Where  throbb'd  the  heart  of  Mary, 

My  ain  dear  Mary; 
She's  gane  to  seats  o'  blissfu'  rest, 

And  I  ha'e  lost  my  Mary. 


THE    UNIVERSAL  NAME. 


95 


MARY   AT   THE   BURN. 

WHEN  trees  did  bud  and  fields  were  green 
And  broom  bloomed  fair  to  see, 
When  Mary  was  complete  fifteen 
And  love  laughed  in  her  e'e. 

Now  Davy  did  each  lad  surpass 

That  dwelt  at  this  burnside, 
And  Mary  was  the  bonniest  lass 

Just  meet  to  be  a  bride. 

Her  cheeks  were  rosy  red  and  white, 

Her  een  were  bonny  blue, 
Her  locks  were  like  Aurora  bright, 

Her  lips  like  dropping  dew. 

As  down  the  burn  they  took  their  way, 

And  through  the  flowery  dale, 
His  cheek  to  her's  he  oft  did  lay, 

And  love  was  aye  the  tale. 

With,  "  Mary,  when  shall  we  return, 

Sic  pleasure  to  renew  ?  " 
Quoth  Mary,  "  Love  I  like  the  burn. 

And  aye  will  follow  you." 

Robert  Crawford. 


96  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


MARY    DHU. 

SWEET,  sweet  is  the  rose-bud 
Bathed  in  dew; 
But  sweeter  art  thou 
My  Mary  Dhu. 
Oh!  the  skies  of  night, 
With  their  eyes  of  Hght, 
Are  not  so  bright 
As  my  Mary. 
Whenever  thy  radiant  face  I  see, 
The  clouds  of  sorrow  depart  from  me: 
As  the  shadows  fly, 
From  day's  bright  eye. 
Thou  hghtest  life's  sky 
My  Mary  Dhu. 

Sad,  sad  is  my  heart 

When  I  sigh  adieu! 
Or  gaze  on  thy  parting, 

My  Mary  Dhu! 
Then  for  thee  I  mourn 
Till  thy  steps  return. 
Bids  my  bosom  burn — 

My  Mary  Dhu! 
I  thiiik  but  of  thee  on  the  brown-clad  hills, 
I  muse  but  on  thee  by  the  moorland  rills 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

In  the  morning  light, 
In  the  moonshine  bright, 
Thou  art  still  in  my  sight, 
My  Mary  Dhu. 

Thy  voice  trembles  through  me, 

Like  the  breeze 
That  ripples  in  gladness 

The  leafy  trees; 
'Tis  a  wafted  tone, 
From  Heaven's  high  throne, 
Making  hearts  thine  own, 

My  Mary  Dhu. 
Be  the  flowers  of  joy  ever  round  thy  feet 
With  colors  glowing,  and  incense  sweet; 

And  when  thou  must  away. 

May  life's  rose  decay 

In  the  west  winds  sway — 
My  Mary  Dhu. 

David  Macbeth  Moir. 


97 


98  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


MARY   OF   ARGYLE. 

I  HAVE  heard  the  mavis  singhig 
His  love  song  to  the  morn; 
I  have  seen  the  dew-drops  chnging 

To  the  rose,  just  newly  born — 
But  a  sweeter  song  has  cheered  me, 

At  the  evening's  gentle  close; 
And  I've  seen  an  eye  still  brighter 

Than  the  dew-drop  on  the  rose; 
'Twas  thy  voice,  my  gentle  Mary, 

And  thine  ardess,  winning  smile, 
That  made  this  world  an  Eden — 

Bonnie  Mary  of  Argyle. 

Though  thy  voice  may  lose  its  sweetness. 

And  thine  eye  its  brightness  too; 
Though  thy  step  may  lose  its  fleetness, 

And  thy  hair  its  sunny  hue; 
Still  to  me  wilt  thou  be  dearer 

Than  all  the  world  shall  own, 
I  have  loved  thee  for  thy  beauty 

But  not  for  that  alone; 
I  have  watched  thy  heart,  dear  Mary, 

And  its  goodness  was  the  wile, 
That  has  made  thee  mine  forever, 

Bonnie  Mary  of  Argyle! 

Charles  Ji:i  rkiEs. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


99 


MY   AIN    MY   ARTLESS   MARY. 

(or,   "meet  me  on  the  gowan  lea.") 

MEET  me  on  the  gowan  lea, 
Bonnie  Mary,  sweetest  Mary; 
Meet  me  on  the  gowan  lea, 
My  ain,  my  artless  Mary. 

Before  the  sun  sinks  in  the  west, 
And  nature  a'  ha'e  gane  to  rest, 
There  to  my  fond,  my  faithful  breast, 
Oh,  let  me  clasp  my  Mary. 

Meet  me  on  the  gowan  lea,  &c. 

The  gladsome  lark  o'er  moor  and  fell, 
The  Untie  in  the  bosky  dell, 
Nae  blyther  than  your  bonnie  sel' 
My  ain,  my  artless  Mary. 

Meet  me  on  the  gowan  lea,  &c. 

We'll  join  our  love  notes  to  the  breeze 
That  sighs  in  whispers  through  the  trees. 
And  a'  that  twa  fond  hearts  can  please 
Will  be  our  song,  dear  Mary. 

Meet  me  on  the  gowan  lea,  &c. 


lOO  THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

There  ye  shall  sing  the  sun  to  rest, 
While  to  my  faithfu'  bosom  prest; 
Then  wha  sae  happy,  wha  sae  blest, 
As  me  and  my  dear  Mary. 

Meet  me  on  the  gowan  lea! 

Bonnie  Mary,  sweetest  Mary, 
Meet  me  on  the  gowan  lea, 

My  ain,  my  artless  Mary! 


MARY. 

(air:     the  flower  of  dunblane). 

How  saft  sink  the  shadows  when  day  disappearing. 
Behind  yon  grey  mountain  bids  Tarland  adieu! 
While  clouds  to  the  western  horizon  are  steering, 

And  sunsets  bright  glories  yet  linger  in  view. 
Oh!  fair  fa'  the  gloamin'  when  Mary  is  roaming, 

The  cantie  bit  lassie  that  dearly  I  lo'e; 
Oh!  fair  fa'  the  gloamin',  where  torrents  are  foaming 
A-down  the  steep  rocks  on  the  braes  o'  Ben  Dhu! 

She  treads  the  rich  clover,  where  each  painted  rover — 
Bright  Initterflies — sported  the  long  summer  day; 

She  plucks  the  red  brier  rose — the  woodbine  its  lover, 
And  twines  her  dark  locks  ur'  the  white-blossom' d  May. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  loi 

Oh!  fair  fa'  the  gloamin'  when  Mary  is  roaming 
'Mid  bravv  luckan  gowans  and  harebells  sae  blue; 

Oh!  fair  fa'  the  gloamin'  where  torrents  are  foaming 
A-down  the  wild  corries  and  craigs  o'  Ben  Dhu! 

Among  the  rough  copsewood,  across  the  green  paling, 

Through  meadow-sweet,  fair  as  the  pearl-blossom' d  spray, 
Where  birches  in  tears,  are  their  fragrance  exhaling, 

As  light  as  the  roe-deer  she  bounds  on  her  way. 
Oh!  fair  fa'  the  gloamin'  when  Mary  is  roaming 

Sae  winsome  and  bonnie,  sae  gentle  and  true; 
My  steps  fly  to  meet  her,  and  soon  shall  I  greet  her — 

The  joy  of  my  fond  heart!  the  pride  of  Ben  Dhu! 

Maria  D.  Ogiloy. 


OUR   MARY.* 

("OR,    MARY    SWEET    WEE   WOMAN.") 

OUR  Mary  liket  weel  to  stray 
Where  clear  the  burn  was  rowin 
And  troth  she  was,  though  I  it  say. 
As  fair  as  aught  ere  made  o'  clay. 
And  pure  as  ony  gowan. 

And  happy  too,  as  ony  lark 

The  clud  might  ever  carry; 
She  shunn'd  the  ill,  and  sought  the  good, 
E'en  mair  than  weel  was  understood. 

And  a'  folk  liket  Mary. 


*  From  Riddles  ballad  "  The  Cottage  of  Glendale." 


I02  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

But  she  fell  sick  ur'  some  decay 

When  she  was  but  eleven; 
And  as  she  pined  from  day  to  day, 
We  grudged  to  see  her  gaun  away, 

Though  she  was  gaun  to  Heaven. 

****** 

But  Mary  had  a  gentle  heart — 

Heaven  did  as  gently  free  her; 
Yet  lang  afore  she  reach' d  that  part, 
Dear  Sir  it  wad  ha'e  made  ye  start, 
Had  ye  been  there  to  see  her. 

Sae  changed,  and  yet  sae  sweet  and  fair 
And  growing  meek  and  meeker, 

Wi'  her  lang  locks  o'  yellow  hair 

She  wore  a  little  angel's  air. 
Ere  angels  came  to  seek  her. 

And  when  she  could  not  stray  out  by. 

The  wee  wild  flowers  to  gather 
She  oft  her  household  plays  wad  try 
To  hide  her  illness  frae  our  eye, 
Lest  she  should  grieve  us  farther. 

And  ilka  thing  we  said  or  did 

Aye  pleased  the  sweet  wee  creature; 
Indeed  ye  wad  ha'e  thought  she  had, 
A  something  in  her  made  her  glad, 
Ayont  the  course  of  nature. 

?1^  <^*  ^  ^fl  5jC  5JC 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

But  death's  cauld  hour  came  on  at  last, 

As  it  to  a*  is  comniin; 
And  may  it  be,  whene'er  it  falls 
Nae  waur  to  others  than  it  was 

To  Mary,  sweet  wee  woman! 


103 


BONNIE   MARY. 

WHEN  the  sun  gaes  down,  when  the  sun  gaes  down, 
I'll  meet  thee  bonnie  Mary,  when  the  sun  gaes  down. 
I'll  row  my  apron  up,  an'  I'll  leave  the  reeky  town. 
And  meet  thee  by  the  burnie,  when  the  sun  gaes  down. 

When  the  sun  gaes  down,  &c. 

By  the  burnie,  there's  a  bower,  we  will  gently  lean  us  there, 
An'  forget  in  ither's  arms  every  earthly  care. 
For  the  chiefest  o'  my  joys,  in  this  weary  mortal  roun', 
Is  the  burnside  wi'  Mary  when  the  sun  gaes  down. 

When  the  sun  gaes  down,  &c. 

There  the  ruin'd  castle  tower  on  the  distant  steep  appears, 
Like  a  hoary  auld  warrior  faded  with  years, 
An'  the  burnie  stealing  by  wi'  a  fairy  silver  soun', 
Will  sooth  us  with  its  music  when  the  sun  gaes  down. 

When  the  sun  gaes  down,  &c. 


I04 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


The  burnside  is  sweet  when  the  dew  is  on  the  flower, 
But  'tis  like  a  little  heaven  at  the  trystin'  hour, 
And  with  pity  I  would  look  on  the  king  who  wears  the  crown, 
When  wi'  thee  by  the  burnie,  when  the  sun  gaes  down. 

When  the  sun  gaes  down,  &c. 

When  the  sun  gaes  down,  when  the  sun  gaes  down, 
I'll  meet  thee  by  the  burnie,  when  the  sun  gaes  down; 
Come  in  thy  petticoatie,  and  thy  little  drugget  gown, 
And  I'll  meet  thee  bonnie  Mary  when  the  sun  gaes  down. 

When  the  sun  gaes  down,  &c. 


I'D    EVER    KEEP    MY    MARY. 

"(along    by    SEVERN    STREAM    SO    CLEAR.)' 

ALONG  by  Severn  stream  so  clear, 
When  spring  adorns  the  infont  year. 
And  music  charms  the  list'ning  ear 
I'll  wandar  with  my  Mary, 
My  bonnie  blooming  Mary; 
Not  Spring  itssclf  to  me  is  dear 
When  absent  from  my  Mary. 

When  summer's  sun  pours  on  my  head, 
His  sultry  rays,  I'll  seek  the  shade. 
Unseen,  upon  a  primrose  bed, 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  105 

I'll  sit  with  little  Mary, 
My  bonny  blooming  Mary; 
Where  fragrant  flowers  are  spread 
To  charm  my  little  Mary. 

She's  mild's  the  sun  through  April  show'r 
That  glances  on  the  leafy  bower 
She's  sweet  as  Flora's  fav'rite  flower 

My  bonny  little  Mary, 

My  blooming  little  Mary, 
Give  me  but  her,  no  other  dower 

I'll  ask  with  little  Mary. 

Should  fickle  fortune  frown  on  me. 
And  leave  me  bare's  the  naked  tree, 
Possessed  of  her,  how  rich  I'd  be 

My  lovely  little  Mary, 

My  bonny  blooming  Mary; 
From  gloomy  care  and  sorrow  free 

I'd  ever  keep  my  Mary. 


loo  THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 


MARY. 

(air:  the  dawtie  or  darling). 

THERE  lives  a  young  lassie 
Far  down  yon  long  glen, 
How  I  lo'e  that  lassie 

There's  nae  ane  can  ken! 
Oh!  a  saint's  faith  may  vary, 

But  faithfu'  I'll  be 
For  weel  I  lo'e  Mary, 
An'  Mary  lo'es  me. 

Red,  red  as  the  rowan 

Her  smiling  wee  mou' 
And  white  as  the  gowan 

Her  breast  and  her  brow; 
We'  the  foot  o'  a  fairy 

She  links  o'er  the  lea — 
Oh!  weel  I  lo'e  Mary 

And  Mary  lo'es  me. 

Where  yon  tall  forest  timmer, 

An'  lowly  broom  bower, 
To  the  sunshine  o'  simmer. 

Spread  verdure  an'  flower; 
There,  when  night  clouds  the  cary, 

Beside  her  I'll  be— 
For  weel  I  lo'e  Mary 

An'  Mary  lo'es  me! 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  107 


LOVELY   MARY. 

(miss    MARY    DOUGLASS,    OF    ALLVA,    SCOTLAND). 

I'VE  seen  the  lily  of  the  wold, 
I've  seen  the  opening  marigold, 
Where  fairest  hues  at  morn  unfold, 

But  fairer  is  my  Mary. 
How  sweet  the  fringe  of  mountain  burn, 
With  opening  flowers  at  Spring's  return! 
How  sweet  the  scent  of  flow'ry  thorn! 
But  sweeter  is  my  Mary. 

Her  heart  is  gentle,  warm  and  kind; 
Her  form's  not  fairer  than  her  mind; 
Two  sister  beauties  rarely  joined, 

But  both  in  lovely  Mary, 
As  music  from  the  distant  steep. 
As  starlight  on  the  silent  deep, 
So  are  my  passions  lulled  asleep 

By  love  for  bonnie  Mary. 


lo8  THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 


THE   BONNIE   BLINK   O'    MARY'S   E'E. 

NOW  bank  and  brae  are  clad  in  green, 
And  scatter' d  cowslips  sweetly  spring; 
By  Girvan's  fairy-haunted  stream, 
The  birdies  flit  on  wanton  wing; 
By  Cassillis'  banks  w'hen  e'eing  fa's, 
There  let  my  Mary  meet  ur'  me, 
There  catch  her  ilka  glance  o'  love 
The  bonnie  bHnk  o'  Mary's  e'e! 

The  chiel'  who  boasts  o'  world's  wealth 

Is  often  laird  o'  mickle  care; 
But  Mary  she  is  a'  my  ain, 

An'  Fortune  canna  gie  me  main 
Then  let  me  stray  by  Cassillis'  banks 

Wi'  her,  the  lassie  dear  to  me, 
And  catch  her  ilka  glance  o'  love 

The  bonnie  blink  o'  Mary's  e'e. 


niE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


lOc) 


MARY  AND  ME  ON  THE  BRAES  O' 

BEDLAY. 

(air:  hills  o'  glenoschy). 

WHEN  I  think  on  the  sweet  smiles  o'  my  lassie, 
My  cares  flee  away  like  a  thief  frae  the  day; 
My  heart  loups  light,  and  I  join  in  a  sang, 

Among  the  sweet  birds  on  the  braes  o'  Bedlay. 
How  sweet  the  embrace,  yet  how  honest  the  wishes. 
When  luve  fa's  a-wooin',  and  modestly  blushes, 
Whaur  Mary  an'  I  meet  amang  the  green  bushes. 
That  screen  us  so  weel  on  the  braes  o'  Bedlay. 

There's  nane  sae  trig  or  sae  fair  as  my  lassie, 

An'  mony  a  wooer  she  answers  wi'  "  Nay," 
Wha  fain  wad  ha'e  her  to  lea'  me  alane. 

An'  meet  me  nae  mair  on  the  braes  o'  Bedlay. 
I  fear  na,  I  care  na,  their  braggin'  o'  siller, 
Nor  a'  the  fine  things  they  can  think  on  to  tell  her, 
Nae  vauntin'  can  buy  her,  nae  threatnin'  can  sell  her, 
It's  luve  leads  her  out  to  the  braes  o'  Bedlay. 

We'll  gang  by  the  links  o'  the  wild  rowin'  burnie, 
Whaur  aft  in  my  mornin'  o'  life  I  did  stray, 

Whaur  luve  was  invited  and  cares  were  beguiled 
By  Mary  and  me  on  the  braes  o'  Bedlay. 


no  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Sae  luvin,  sae  movin,  I'll  tell  her  my  story, 
Unmixed  wi'  the  deeds  o'  ambition  or  glory, 
Whaur  wide-spreading  hawthorns  sae  ancient  and  hoary 
Enrich  the  sweet  breeze  on  the  braes  o'  Bedlay. 


WINSOME   MARY   GRIEVE,   OR   THE 
WELLS   O'    WEARIE. 

(air:    BONNIE    HOUSE    O'    AIRLIE). 

SWEETLY  shines  the  sun,  on  auld  Edinbro'  town, 
And  mak's  her  look  young  and  cheerie; 
Yet  I  maun  awa'  to  spend  the  afternoon 
At  the  lonesome  Wells  o'  Wearie. 

And  you  maun  gang  wi'  me,  my  winsome  Mary  Grieve, 

There's  naught  in  the  world  to  fear  ye; 
For  I  ha'e  asked  your  mither,  an'  she  has  gi'en  ye  leave 

To  gang  to  the  Wells  o'  Wearie. 

Oh,  the  sun  winna  blink  in  thy  bonnie  blue  ecn. 

Nor  tinge  the  white  brow  o'  my  dearie; 
For  I'll  shade  a  jjower  wi'  rushes  lang  and  green, 

By  the  lanesome  Wells  o'  Wearie. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  m 

But  Mary,  my  luve,  beware  ye  dinna  glower, 

At  your  form,  in  the  water  so  clearly; 
Or  the  Fairy  will  change  yoii  iyito  a  wee,  wee  flower. 

And  you'  II  grow  by  the  Wells  d    Wearie! 

Yestreen  as  I  wander' d  there  a'  alane, 

I  felt  unco  douf  and  drearie. 
For  wanting  my  Mary  a'  aroun'  me  was  but  pain. 

At  the  lanesome  Wells  o'  Wearie. 

Let  fortune  or  fame,  their  minions  deceive, 

Let  fate  look  gruesome  and  eerie; 
True  glory  and  wealth  are  mine  wi'  Mary  Grieve, 

When  we  meet  by  the  Wells  o'  Wearie. 

Then  gang  wi'  me,  my  bonnie  Mary  Grieve, 

No  danger  will  daur  to  come  near  ye; 
For  I  ha'e  asked  your  mither  and  she  has  gi'en  ye  leave, 

To  gang  to  the  Wells  o'  Wearie! 


112  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


MARY   AND   THE   PARIES. 

"   A  1MD  where  have  you  been,  my  Mary, 
i\     And  where  have  you  been  from  me?  " 

"I've  been  to  the  top  of  the  Caldon-Low, 
The  Midsummer  night  to  see." 

' '  And  what  did  you  see  my  Mary, 

All  up  on  the  Caldon-Low?  " 
' '  I  saw  the  blithe  sunshine  come  down. 

And  I  saw  the  merry  winds  blow." 

"And  what  did  you  hear  my  Mary, 

AUupon  theCaldon-Hill?" 
"  I  heard  the  drops  of  the  water  made, 

And  the  green  corn  ears  to  fill. ' ' 

' '  Oh  tell  me  all  my  Mary — 

All,  all  that  ever  you  know: 
For  you  must  have  seen  the  faries, 

Last  night  on  the  Caklon-Low." 

"  Then  listen  close  to  mc  mother, 

Yes,  listen  mother  of  mine: 
A  hundred  faries  danced  last  night, 

And  the  Harpers, — they  were  nine. 


THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

And  merry  was  the  glee  of  the  harp-struigs, 
And  their  dancing  feet  so  small: 

But  oh!  the  sound  of  their  talking  was — 
Was  merrier  far  than  all." 

"  And  what  were  the  words  my  Mary, 
That  you  did  hear  them  say  ? ' ' 

"I'll  tell  you  all  my  mother — 
But  let  me  have  my  way. 

And  some  they  played  with  the  water, 

And  rolled  it  down  the  hill: 
And  this  they  said  shall  speedily  turn 

The  poor  old  miller's  mill. 

For  there  has  been  no  water 

Ever  since  the  first  of  May: 
And  a  busy  man  shall  the  miller  be 

By  the  dawning  of  the  day. 

Oh!  the  miller,  how  he  will  laugh, 
When  he  sees  the  mill-dam  rise. 

The  jolly  old  miller,  how  he  will  laugh. 
Till  the  tears  fill  both  his  eyes." 

And  some  they  seized  the  little  winds, 

That  sounded  over  the  hill. 
And  each  put  a  horn  into  his  mouth. 

And  blew  so  sharp  and  shrill; — 


113 


114  ^^^    UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

"  And  there,"  said  they,  "  the  merry  winds  go, 

Away  from  every  horn: 
And  those  shall  clear  the  mildew  dank, 

From  the  blind  old  widow's  corn." 

And  some  they  brought  the  brown  lintseed, 
And  flung  it  down  from  the  Low — 

"  And  this,"  said  they,  "by  the  sunrise. 
In  the  weaver's  croft  shall  grow." 

^I^  ^^  5j*  ?f»  3jC  5jC 

And  then  up  spoke  a  merry  Brownie, 
With  a  long  beard  on  his  chin — 

"  1  have  spun  up  all  the  tow,"  said  he. 
And  I  want  some  more  to  spin. 

I've  spun  a  piece  of  hempen  cloth, — 

And  I  want  to  spin  another; 
A  fiir  fine  sheet  for  Mary's  bed, 

And  an  apron  for  her  mother." 

And  with  that  I  could  not  help  but  laugh, 
And  I  laughed  out  loud  and  free, 

And  then  on  the  top  of  the  Caldon-Low 
There  was  no  one  left  l)ut  me! 

And  all  on  the  top  of  the  Caldon-Low, 

The  mists  were  cold  and  gray. 
And  nothing  I  saw  but  the  mossy  stones 

That  round  about  me  lay. 


THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME.  115 

But  as  I  came  down  from  the  liill-top, 

I  heard  afar  below, 
How  busy  the  jolly  miller  was, 

And  how  merry  the  wheel  did  go. 

And  I  peeped  into  the  widow's  field, 

And  sure  enough  was  seen. 
The  yellow' d  ears  of  the  mildewed  corn 

All  standing  stiff  and  green. 

And  down  by  the  weaver's  croft  I  stole, 

To  see  if  the  flax  were  high: 
And  I  saw  the  weaver  at  his  gate 

With  the  good  news  in  his  eye. 

Now  this  is  all  I  heard  mother. 

And  all  that  I  did  see, 
So,  prithee,  make  my  bed  mother, 

For  I'm  tired  as  I  can  be!  " 

Mary  Howitt. 


Il6  THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 


MARY,    "THE   LASS   O'    ISLA." 

He:       "AH,  Mary  sweetest  maid  farewell! 

r\     My  hopes  are  flown  for  a's  to  wreck. 
Heaven  guard  you  love,  and  heal  your  heart, 
Though  mine,  alas!  maun  break." 


She:     "  Dearest  lad,  what  ills  betide? 
Is  Willie  to  his  love  untrue  ? 
Engaged  the  morn  to  be  his  bride, 
An'  ha'e  ye,  ha'e  ye  ta'en  the  rue?" 

He:       "  Ye  canna  wear  a  ragged  gown, 
Or  beggar  wed  ur'  naught  ava; 
My  kye  are  drown' d,  my  house  is  down 
My  last  sheep  lies  aneath  the  snaw." 

She:     "  Tell  na  me  o'  storm  or  flood. 

Or  sheep  a'  smoor'd  ayont  the  hill; 
For  Willie's  sake  I  Willie  lo'ed, 

Though  poor,  ye  are  my  Willie  still." 

He:       "Ye  canna  thole  the  wind  and  rain, 
Or  wander  friendless  far  fra  hanie; 
Cheer,  cheer  your  heart;  some  other  swain 
Will  soon  blot  out  lost  Willie's  name." 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

She:     "  I'll  tak  my  bundle  in  my  hand 

And  wipe  the  dew-drop  frae  my  e'e; 
I'll  wander  wi'  ye  o'er  the  land 
I'll  venture  wi'  ye  o'er  the  sea." 

***** 

He:      "  Forgi'e  me,  'twas  all  a  snare; 

My  flocks  are  safe,  we  needna'  part; 
I'd  forfeit  them,  and  ten  times  mair 
To  clasp  thee  Mary  to  my  heart." 

She:     "  How  could  ye  wi'  my  feelings  sport 

Or  doubt  a  heart  sae  warm  and  true  ? 
I  maist  could  wish  ye  mischief  for  't, 
But  canna  wish  aught  ill  to  you." 


117 


ADIEU,    ADIEU    FOR   AYE   MARY. 

(or  "the  braes  of  auchinblae"). 

As  clear  is  Luther's  wave  I  ween, 
As  gay  the  grove,  the  vale  as  green; 
But,  oh!  the  days  that  we  have  seen 

Are  fled,  and  fled  for  aye,  Mary ! 

Oh!  we  have  often  fondly  stray' d 

In  Fordoun's  green  embow'ring  glade 

And  marked  the  moonbeam  as  it  played 

On  Luther's  bonnie  wave,  Mary! 


Ii8  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Since  then  full  many  a  year  and  day 
With  me  have  slowly  pass'd  away, 
Far  from  the  braes  of  Auchinblae 

And  far  from  love  and  thee  Mary! 

And  we  must  part  again,  my  dear, 

It  is  not  mine  to  linger  here; 

Yes,  we  must  part — and  oh!  I  fear, 

We  meet  not  here  again  Mary ! 

For  on  Cullodin's  bloody  field. 
Our  hapless  prince's  fate  is  seal'd — 
Last  night  to  me  it  was  reveal' d 

Sooth  as  the  word  of  Heaven,  Mary! 

And  'ere  tomorrow's  sun  shall  shine 
Upon  the  heights  of  Galloguhine, 
A  thousand  victims  at  the  shrine 

Of  tyranny,  shall  bleed,  Mary! 

Hark!   Hark!  they  come — the  focmen  come — 

I  go,  but  whcrcsoe'r  I  roam, 

With  thee  my  heart  remains  at  home. 

Adieu!  adieu,  for  aye,  Mary! 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


119 


MARY   STEEL. 

I'LL  think  o'  thee,  my  Mary  Steel, 
When  the  lark  begins  to  sing, 
And  a  thousan',  thousan'  joyfu'  hearts 

Are  welcoming  the  spring; 
When  the  merle  and  the  blackbird  build  their  nest 

In  the  bushy  forest  tree. 
And  a'  things  under  the  sky  seem  blest 
My  thoughts  shall  be  o'  thee. 

I'll  think  o'  thee  my  Mary  Steel, 

When  the  simmer  spreads  her  flowers, 
And  the  lilly  blooms,  and  the  ivy  twines 

In  beauty  round  the  bowers; 
When  the  cushat  coos  in  the  leafy  wood, 

And  the  lambs  sport  o'er  the  lea, 
And  every  heart's  in  its  happiest  mood, 

My  thoughts  shall  be  o'  thee. 

I'll  think  o'  thee,  my  Mary  Steel 

When  harv'st  blythe  days  begin. 
And  shearers  ply  in  the  yellow  ripe  field 

The  foremost  rig  to  win; 
When  the  shepherd  brings  his  ewes  to  the  fauld. 

Where  light-hair' d  lassies  be. 
And  mony  a  tale  o'  love  is  tauld. 

My  thoughts  shall  be  o'  thee. 


I20  THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

I'll  think  o'  thee,  my  Mary  Steel, 

When  the  winds  rave  high. 
And  the  tempest  wild  is  pourin'  down, 

Frae  the  dark  and  troubled  sky; 
When  a  hopeless  wail  is  heard  on  land. 

And  shrieks  frae  the  roaring  sea. 
And  the  wreck  o'  Nature  seems  at  hand 

My  thoughts  shall  be  o'  thee! 


THOU    KEN'ST   MARY    HAY. 

(the  auld  husband's  appeal  to  his  mary). 
tune:  "bonnie  mary  hay," 

THOU  ken' St  Mary  Hay,  that  I  loe  thee  weel, 
My  ain  auld  wife  sae  canty  and  leal, 
Then  what  gars  thee  stand  wi'  the  tear  in  thine  e'e, 
And  look  aye  sae  wae,  when  thou  look'st  at  me? 

Dost  thou  miss  Mary  Hay,  the  soft  bloom  o'  my  cheek, 
And  the  hair  curling  round  it  sae  gentie  and  sleek  ? 
For  the  snaw's  on  my  head,  and  the  roses  are  gane, 
Since  that  day  o'  days  I  first  ca'd  thee  my  ain. 

But  though,  Mary  Hay,  my  auld  e'en  be  grown  dim, 
An'  age  wi'  its  frost,  mak's  cauld  every  limb. 
My  heart  thou  kens  weel  has  nac  caulchicss  for  thee 
For  summer  returns  at  the  blink  o'  thine  e'e. 


THE  UNIVERSAL   NAME.  121 

The  miser  bauds  firmer  and  firmer  his  gold 
The  ivy  sticks  close  to  the  tree  when  it's  old, 
And  still  thou  grow'st  dearer  to  me,  Mary  Hay 
As  a'  else  turns  eerie,  and  life  wears  away. 

We  maun  part,  Mary  Hay,  when  our  journey  is  done, 
But  I'll  meet  thee  again  in  the  bright  world  aboon. 
Then  what  gars  thee  stand  wi'  the  tear  in  thine  e'e. 
And  look  aye  sae  wae,  when  thon  look'st  at  me  ? 


MARY   OF   SWEET   ABERFOYLE. 

THE  sun  had  na  peeped  fi-ae  behind  the  dark  billow, 
The  slow-sinking  moon  half  illumin'd  the  scene. 
As  I  lifted  my  head  frae  my  care-haunted  pillow, 

And  waner'd  to  muse  on  the  days  that  were  gane. 
Sweet  hope  seem'd  to  smile  o'er  ideas  romantic. 

An'  gay  were  the  dreams  that  my  soul  would  beguile; 
But  my  eyes  fill'd  wi'  tears  as  I  view'd  the  Atlantic, 
An'  thought  on  my  Mary  of  sweet  Aberfoyle. 

Though  frae  from  my  home  in  a  tropical  wild-wood, 
Yet  the  fields  o'  my  forefathers  rose  on  my  view; 

And  I  wept  when  I  thought  on  the  days  of  my  childhood. 
An'  the  vision  more  painful  the  brighter  it  grew. 


122  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Sweet  days!  when  my  bosom  with  rapture  was  swelHng, 
Though  I  knew  it  not  then,  it  was  love  made  me  smile; 

Oh!    the  snaw-wreath   is  pure  where  the  moonbeams   are 
dwelling, 
Yet  as  pure  is  my  Mary  of  sweet  Aberfoyle. 

**^M  ^^  *j^  ^^  ^^ 

^^  ^^  ^^  ^^  ^> 

When  the  mirk  cloud  o'  fortune  aboon  my  head  gathers, 

An'  the  golden  show'r  fa's  where  it  ne'er  fell  before, 
Ah!  then  I'll  revisit  the  land  of  my  father's, 

And  clasp  to  this  bosom  the  lass  I  adore. 
Hear  me  ye  angels,  who  watch  o'er  my  maiden, 

(Like  ane  o'  yoursel's  she  is  free  frae  a'  guile). 
Pure  as  was  love  in  the  garden  of  Eden, 

Sae  pure  is  my  Mary  of  sweet  Aberfoyle. 


MARIE. 

(singing). 
from  the  french  of  alfred  de  musset. 

THE  beaut' ous  flower  of  spring 
Opens  its  leaves  in  the  wood,  and 
Smiles, — a  curious  mys'try  fine, 
Stirred  by  the  zephyr's  mood. 
And  its  stalk  so  light  and  fresh 
Feels  its  petals  slowly  open; — 
Down  to  its  roots  in  the  earth, 
Tremb'ling  with  joyful  emotion. 


THE    UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


123 


'Tis  thus  when  my  gentle  Marie 
While  singing,  her  dear  lips  part; 
Raising  above  her  azure  eyes, 
Her  sensitive  soul  and  heart — 
Seems  bathed  in  a  buoyant  fire 
Of  harmony  and  of  light, 
Then  rising  in  tremulous  joy 
Aspires  to  the  Heaven's  so  bright. 

Trans.  E.  V.  B. 


A  FRENCH  SAILOR'S  ADIEU  TO  MARIE. 

A    FLOWER    FOR    RESPONSE. 

" /~\UR  ship  is  about  to  sail  Marie;  for  long  I  shall  not  see 

\_)         thee, 
In  going  so  far  away  may  I  have  a  keepsake  ? 
If  not  for  love  at  least  for  hope:     I'm  going,  adieu  Marie! 
I  leave  to-morrow. 
If  you  will  regret  me,  oh!  I  beg — 
Give  me  that  flower  darling  your  hand  has  touched. 

If  that  flower  were  given  to  me,  by  you. 
Even  in  leaving,  I  should  feel  some  joy; 
And  when  far  away  from  you,  that  foded  rose, 
Will  be  ever  there,  ever  there  on  my  heart." 

The  poor  child  trembled  'neath  his  gaze; 
Sad  and  dreaming  she  implored  God's  help,  and  he,  in  a 
voice 


124  ^^^   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Both  tender  and  reproachful,  said: 
"You're  silent,  ah!  you  do  not  love  me — I'm  going 
My  heart  is  wounded.     Adieu!  I  go  to-morrow." 
He  was  turning  away,  when  that  cherished  flower 
Dropped  from  her  hand  into  his. 

From  "Music  of  the  Waters,"  by  L.  A.  Smith. 


TO   MARY   OUEEN    OF   SCOTS. 

(on  her  departure  from  FRANCE). 
FROM  THE  FRENCH. 

'"HP HE  day  that  was  to  bear  her  far  away! 

1        Why  was  I  mortal  to  behold  that  day  ? 
O!  France,  where  are  thy  ancient  champions  gone, 
Roland,  Rinaldo  ?  is  there  living  none 
Her  steps  to  follow,  and  her  safety  guard. 
And  deem  her  lovely  looks  their  best  reward ! 


All  beauty  granted  as  a  boon  to  earth, 
Tliat  is,  has  been,  or  ever  can  have  birth, 
Conip.ir'd  to  her's  is  void,  and  Nature's  care, 
Ne'er  forni'd  a  creature  so  divinely  fiiir. 

:!:  :!:  :):  %  :}: 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


125 


Wherever  Destiny  her  path  may  lead 

Fresh  springing  flow'rs  will  bloom  beneath  her  tread, 

All  Natui'e  will  rejoice,  the  waves  be  bright, 

The  tempest  check  its  fury  at  her  sight; 

The  sea  be  calm;  her  beauty  to  behold, 

The  Sun  shall  crown  her  with  its  rays  of  gold — 

Unless  he  fears,  should  he  approach  her  throne 

Her  Majesty  should  quite  eclipse  his  oivn!  " 

Pierre  de  Ronsard. 


AN    ALLEGORY    ON    MARY   QUEEN    OF 

SCOTS. 

(from  the  French). 

THERE'S  a  bonnie  wild  rose  on  the  mountain  side. 
In  the  glare  of  noon  it  hath  di^ooped  and  died: 
Soft  and  still  is  the  evening  shower, 
Pattering  kindly  on  brake  and  bower, 
But  it  falls  too  late  on  the  perished  flower. 

There's  a  lamb  lies  lost  at  the  head  of  the  glen, 
Lost  and  missed  from  shieling  and  pen; 
The  shepherd  has  sought  it  in  toil  and  heat; 
And  sore  he  strove  when  he  heard  it  bleat, 
Ere  he  wins  to  the  lamb,  it  lies  dead  at  his  feet. 

The  mist  is  gathering  ghostly  and  chill, 

And  the  weary  maid  cometh  down  from  the  hill, 


126  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

The  weary  maid — but  she's  down  at  last; 
And  she  tried  the  door,  but  the  door  is  fast; 
For  the  sun  is  down,  and  the  Curfew  past. 

Too  late  for  the  Rose  the  evening  rain; 

Too  late  the  lamb  for  the  Shepherd's  pain; 

Too  late  at  her  home  the  maiden's  stroke; 

Too  late  for  the  Plea  when  the  doom  hath  been  spoke; 

Too  late  the  Balm  when  the  heart  is  broke! 

Pierre  de  Chastelard. 


ADIEU    DE   MARIE   STUART. 

(from  the  FRENCH  OF  BERANGER). 

"   A   DIEU  beloved  France,  adieu, 

t\     Thou  ever  will  be  dear  to  me, 
Land  which  my  happy  childhood  knew 
I  feel  I  die,  in  quitting  thee. 

^n  ^J^  Jji  *ys  #^  ^f^ 

When  on  my  brow  the  lillies  bright. 

Before  admiring  throngs  I  wore, 
'Twas  not  my  state  that  charm'd  their  sight, 

They  loved  my  youthful  beauty  more. 
Although  the  Scot  with  sombre  mien, 

(iivcs  me  a  crown,  I  still  rc[)ine, 
I  only  wish'd  to  be  a  queen. 

Ye  sons  of  France,  to  call  you  mine. 

Adieu  beloved  France,  &c. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Love,  glory,  genius  crowded  round, 

My  youthful  spirit  to  elate; 
On  Caledonia's  rugged  ground, 

Ah!  changed  indeed  will  be  my  fate. 
E'en  now  terrific  omens  seem 

To  threaten  ill — my  heart  is  scared ; 
I  see,  as  in  a  hideous  dream 

A  scaffold  for  my  death  prepared. 

Adieu  beloved  France,  <&c. 

France,  from  amid  the  countless  fears. 

The  Stuart's  hapless  child  may  feel. 
E'en  as  she  now  looks  through  her  tears, 

So  will  her  glances  seek  thee  still. 
Alas!  the  ship  too  swiftly  sails, 

O'er  me  are  spreading  other  skies, 
And  night  with  humid  mantle  veils 

Thy  fading  coast  from  these  sad  eyes. 

Adieu  beloved  France,  &c. 


127 


128  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


VERSES   FOR   THE   F£tE   OF   MARY. 

(from  "  Le  Poete  de  Coeur." — Beranger). 

WHAT  ?  to  thee  Mary  tune  a  song  again  ? 
No,  no  in  truth  I  may  not  dare  obey, 
Nerved  is  my  muse  to  try  a  loftier  strain, 

And  t' wards  the  Court,  at  length  she  wings  her  way. 

5fC  ^  5JJ  JjC  •!*  *r» 

All  patriotic  notions  now  are  hiss'd; 

To  reckon  readily' s  the  only  thing, 
An  ode  I'm  writing  to  an  egotist 

Mary  for  thee  no  longer  can  I  sing 

They're  buying  pipe  and  lyre 

'Tis  then  full  time  for  me 
Like  others  to  aspire 

Court  Lauriat  to  be! 

Thy  doubts,  dear  Mary,  tell  me  whence  they  came 

That  thus  to  change,  should  be  thy  lover's  lot? 
Country  and  honor,  liberty  and  fame, 

Are  merely  words — and  men  discount  them  not. 
To  offer  flattery  to  the  great  I'm  learning 

And  songs  for  thee — on  them  might  satire  fling; 
No,  no,  where'er  my  heart  might  fain  be  turning 

Mary,  for  thee  no  longer  can  I  sing 

They're  buying  pipe  and  lyre,  «S:c. 


THE   UNIVERSAL    NAME.  129 


MARIE'S   DREAM. 

(from    the    FRENCH    OF    G.    LEMOINE). 

"    A  ND  you  would  quit  Marie, 

t\     Your  mother  dear, 
And  Paris  you  would  see, 

While  she  weeps  here  ? 
Yet  stay  awhile,  oh!  stay. 

You  need  not  go  till  morning  breaks. 
Sleep  here  until  the  day; 

'Tis  better,  poor  Majie, 
To  pause  as  yet; 

For  all  at  Paris  they  tell  me. 
Their  God  forget. 

Perchance  you  may,  my  poor  Marie, 
Your  mother  and  your  God  forget." 

't*  'K  'I*  'p  'i^  'J^ 

She  leaves  her  native  home 

With  weeping  eyes, 
To  Paris  she  has  come — 

Oh  bright  surprise! 
There  all  appears  to  trace, 

In  lines  of  gold  her  future  lot; 
And  dazzling  dreams  efface 

The  image  of  her  humble  cot. 


I30  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Heaven,  when  two  years  have  past 

Bids  her  return, 
To  her  old  home  at  last — 

She  comes  to  mourn. 
"  Sister!  oh  happy  day — 

My  brother  too  I  see! 
And  where' s  my  mother  pray  ?  " 

"  She  died  through  losing  thee." 

At  once  the  vision  fled — 

She  sleeps  no  more. 
The  watchful  mother  at  her  bed 

Sits  as  before: 
Marie  cries  out,  "  No  Paris  now  for  me  " 

(Her  eyes  with  tears  of  joy  are  wet), 
' '  For  then  perhaps,  your  poor  Marie 

Her  God  and  mother  might  forget!  " 


THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME.  131 


AN   AVOWAL. 

(from    the    FRENCH    OF    BARALLi). 

OH,  do  not  refuse  me,  I  love  thee  Marie, 
Than  Hfe  thou'rt  a  hundred  times  dearer  to  me; 
My  worship  is  such  as  we  raise  to  the  skies, 
I  love  thy  clear  voice,  and  thy  brow  ever  fair, 
Thy  modest  attire,  and  thy  light  sunny  hair, 
O  Marie!  and  the  blue  of  thine  eyes. 

Oh  give  me  that  love,  undivided — the  whole, 
Which  wakens  with  life,  and  expires  with  the  soul; 

That  true  womtin's  love,  and  in  turn  I'll  adore; 
And  when  passing  years  write  their  trace  on  thy  brow, 
Those  moments  of  joy  which  enrapture  us  now 

Marie,  to  thy  heart  I'll  restore. 

But  if  thou' It  not  love  me,  still  let  me,  I  pray 
Adore  thy  blue  eye,  and  its  pure  gentle  ray; 

Those  features  which  never  can  fade  from  the  sight; 
And  let  me  thy  sweet  eighteen  summers  combine 
In  one  flovv'ry  wreath,  and  thy  forehead  entwine 

O  Marie!    with  love  and  delight. 


132  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


MARIE'S   LOVER. 

(le  prisonniere  en  guerre,  by  beranger). 

MARIE,  'tis  late  put  by  thy  work 
The  Shepherd's  star  has  risen!  " 
"Nay,  mother,  nay,  our  village  lad 

Pines  in  a  foreign  prison; 
Far  off  from  home,  on  distant  sea 
He  yielded — but  the  last  was  he." 

"Spin,  spin,  dear  Marie,  spin 

To  send  the  prisoner  aid; 
Spin,  spin,  dear  Marie  spin 

For  him  who's  captive  made." 

"  Well  if  thou  wilt  the  lamp  I'll  light 

But  child,  thy  tears  still  flow!  " 
' '  Mother,  he  frets  himself  to  death 

The  Briton  mocks  his  woe. 
How  Adrian  loved  me  when  a  boy 
With  him  about  our  hearth,  what  joy!  " 

Sjiin,  dear  Marie,  spin,  &c. 

"  Ah  were  I  not  myself  too  old 

I'd  spin  child  lor  his  sake." 
O!  mother  send  to  him  I  love, 

All,  all  that  I  can  make; 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

Rose  bids  me  to  her  wedding  go — 
Hark!  diere's  the  fiddler!     No,  no,  no!" 

Spin,  dear  Marie,  spin,  &c. 

*J^  ^^  \^  M^  %^ 

' '  Daughter  that  he  thy  husband  was 

I  dream'd  again  last  night; 
And  always  ere  the  month  be  out 

These  dreams  of  mine  come  right!  " 

Spin,  spin,  dear  Marie  spin 
To  send  the  prisoner  aid; 

Spin,  spin,  dear  Marie,  spin. 
For  him  who's  captive  made." 


133 


MARY  STUART  IN  FOTHERINGAY  PARK. 

(from     the     GERMAN    OF    FRED.     SCHILLER's    TRAGEDY, 

MARY    STUART). 

OLET  me  enjoy  my  new  freedom, 
Let  me  as  a  child  on  the  green  carpet 
Of  the  meadow,  go  forward  as  on  wings. 
Descended  have  I  from  my  gloomy  prison; 
Holds  me  no  more  the  sorrowful  cell, 
Let  me  to  the  full  assuage  my  thirst. 
My  famishing  thirst  for  the  free  air! 


134  ^^^   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


Thanks,  thanks,  for  these  friendly  green  trees 
That  sliut  out  the  sight  of  my  prison  walls! 
I  will  here  dream  that  I  am  free  and  happy; 
Why  waken  me  from  my  sweetest  vision  ? 
Surrounds  me  not  the  wide  expanse  of  Heaven  ? 
The  aspect  is  free  and  chainless — 
Spreading  in  measureless  distance  out. 
Yonder  where  rise  the  misty  green  hills 
Begins  the  bounds  of  my  kingdom, 
And  those  clouds  which  since  mid  day 
Chase  joyfully  each  other  in  their  course 
Seek,  over  tlie  distant  ocean,  the  coast  of  France. 

Hasten  ye  clouds!     Sailors  of  the  air! 

Who  with  you  journeys — who  ship  your  way, 

Salute  for  me  my  youth's  fiir  land. 

I,  a  prisoner  and  in  bonds; 

Alas!  I  have  no  other  ambassador! 

Free  in  the  air  is  your  triumphant  way. 

You  are  not  subjects  of  this  English  Queen. 

Trans.  E.  V.  B. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  135 


MORTIMER'S  INTERVIEW  WITH    MARIA 

STUART. 

(from    the    GERMAN    OF   SCHILLER's    TRAGEDY    "MARIA 

STUART"). 

ONE  day, 
As  I  looked  about  me  in  the  Bishop's  house 
A  woman's  picture  met  my  startled  eye; 
Of  wonderful  and  sympathetic  charm  it  was: 
How  powerfully  it  moved  me  in  my  deepest  soul! 
Unable  to  control  my  feelings,  helpless  stood  I  there.  , 
Then  said  to  me  the  Bishop,  ' '  Well  may 
You  stand  impressed  before  this  picture, 
Not  only  represents  it,  the  most  beautiful  woman  that  lives, 
But  she  is  also  the  one  who  deserves  the  sincerest  pity: 
For  our  faith  she  is  a  resigned  sufferer. 
And  'tis  in  your  father-land  where  she  suffers." 

*****  ^s 

"  Now  see  I  Queen,  your  very  self! 

Not  your  mere  picture!     O  what  a  treasure  holds 

This  castle!     It  is  no  jail!     Rather  a  Hall  of  the  Gods 

More  brilliant  than  the  Sovereign  Court 

Of  England.     O!    what  happiness  is  granted 

Those  who  breathe  this  air  with  you! 

Well  have  they  right,  you  so  deeply  to  conceal  ! 

All  England's  youth  would  rise, 


136  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

No  sword  lie  idle  in  its  scabbard 
And  the  revolt,  with  head  of  giant 
Would — through  this  peaceful  island  stride 
Saw  but  the  Briton  once,  his  rightful  Queen!  " 

Trans.  E.  V.  B. 


O   MARY   QUEEN    OF   MERCY. 

(from    the    GERMAN    OF    KARL    SIMROCK). 

THERE  lived  a  Knight  long  years  ago, 
Proud,  carnal,  vain,  devotionless, 
Of  God  above,  or  Hell  below, 

He  took  no  thought,  but  undismayed, 
Pursued  his  course  of  wickedness. 

His  heart  was  rock;  he  never  prayed 
To  be  forgiven  for  all  his  treasons; 
He  only  said,  at  certain  seasons, 
"O  Mary,  Queen  of  Mercy!" 

Years  rolled,  and  found  him  still  the  same 
Still  draining  Pleasure's  poison-bowl; 
Yet  felt  he  now  and  then  some  shame; 
The  torment  of  the  Undying  Worm 
At  whiles  woke  in  his  trembling  soul; 

And  then,  though  powerless  to  reform 
Would  he,  in  hope  to  appea.se  that  sternest 
Avenger,  cry,  and  more  in  earnest, 
"  O  Mary,  Queen  of  Mercy!  " 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  137 

At  last  youth's  riotous  time  was  gone, 
And  loathing  now  came  after  sin. 
With  locks  yet  brown  he  felt  as  one 

Grown  grey  at  heart;  and  oft,  with  tears, 
He  tried,  but  all  in  vain,  to  win 

From  the  dark  desert  of  his  years 
One  flower  of  hope;  yet  morn  and  e'ening, 
He  still  cried,  but  with  deeper  meaning, 
*•  O  Mary,  Queen  of  Mercy!  " 


A  happier  mind,  a  holier  mood, 
A  purer  spirit,  ruled  him  now; 

No  more  in  thrall  to  flesh  and  blood, 
He  took  a  pilgrim-stafl"  in  hand, 
And  under  a  religious  vow. 

Travailed  his  way  to  Pommerland, 
There  entered  he  an  humble  cloister, 
Exclaiming,  while  his  eyes  grew  moister, 
"  O  Mary,  Queen  of  Mercy!  " 


Here,  shorn  and  cowled,  he  laid  his  cares 
Aside,  and  wrought  for  God  alone. 
Albeit  he  sang  no  choral  prayers. 

Nor  matin  hymn  nor  laud  could  learn, 
He  mortified  his  flesh  to  stone; 

For  him  no  penance  was  too  stern; 
And  often  prayed  he  on  his  lonely 
Cell-couch  at  night,  but  still  said  only, 
"  O  Mary,  Queen  of  Mercy  1 " 


138  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 

And  thus  he  lived  long,  long;  and,  when 
God's  angels  called  him,  thus  he  died. 
Confession  made  he  none  to  man, 

Yet,  when  they  anointed  him  with  oil, 
He  seemed  already  glorified. 

His  penances,  his  tears,  his  toil, 
Were  past;  and  now,  with  passionate  sighing 
Praise  thus  broke  from  his  lips  while  dying, 
"  O  Mary,  Queen  of  Mercy!  " 

They  hurried  him  with  mass  and  song 
Aneath  a  little  knoll  so  green; 

But  lo  a  wondrous  sight! — ere  long 

Rose  blooming,  from  that  verdant  mound, 
The  fairest  lilly  ever  seen; 

And  on  its  petal  edges  round, 
Relieving  their  translucent  whiteness. 
Did  shine  these  words  in  gold-hued  brightness, 
"  O  Mary,  Queen  of  Mercy!  " 

And  would  God's  angels  give  thee  power. 
Thou,  dearest  reader,  mightst  behold 
The  fibres  of  this  holy  flower 

Upspringing  from  the  dead  man's  heart, 
In  tremulous  threads  of  white  and  gold; 

Tlien  wouldst  thou  choose  the  better  part! 
And  thenceforth  flee  Sin's  foul  suggestions; 
Thy  .sole  response  to  mocking  (juestions 
"  O  Mary,  Queen  of  Mercy!  " 

Trans,  nv  J.  C.  Mangin. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  139 


MARIA'S   ASCENSION. 

FROM    THE   SPANISH. 

LADY,  thou  mountest  slowly 
O'er  the  bright  cloud,  while  music  sweetly  phiys; 
Blest,  who  thy  mantle  holy 
With  outstretched  hand  may  seize, 
And  rise  with  thee  to  the  Infinite  of  Days. 


Around,  behind,  before  thee 
Bright  angels  wait,  that  watched  thee  from  thy  birth, 

A  crown  of  stars  is  o'er  thee. 

The  pale  moon  of  the  earth — 
Thou  supernatural  Queen,  nearest  in  light  and  worth. 

Luis  Ponce  de  Leon. 


I40  THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME, 


SPANISH    BALLAD. 

OMARY  would'st  thou  but  believe, 
A  heart  that  knows  not  to  deceive, 

Alas!  no  longer  free: 
That  faithful  heart  would  truly  tell 
The  secret  charm,  the  tender  sj)ell 

That  bound  it  first  to  thee. 
'Tis  not,  that  cradled  in  thine  eyes 
The  wily  Cupid  ever  lies 

On  couches  dipped  in  dew. 
'Tis  not  because  those  eyes  have  won, 
Their  temper' d  light  from  April  sun, 

From  Heaven  their  tints  of  blue. 
No,  dearest,  no,  but  from  my  soul 
It  was  a  little  smile  that  stole 

The  cherish' d  sweets  of  rest; 
And  ever  since,  from  morn  till  night . 
That  little  smile,  still  haunts  my  sight, 

In  dimples  gaily  drest. 
O!    Mary  would'st  thou  but  believe 
A  heart  that  knows  not  to  decieve 

You'd  quickly  set  it  free; 
For  liberty  within  thy  arms 
Is  Paradise  in  all  its  cliarms 

'Tis  Heaven  alone  with  thee. 

Steven's  Trans. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  141 


FAIR   MARY. 

(from    the   SPANISH.) 

TELL  me  thou  ancient  mariner 
That  sailest  on  the  sea, 
If  ship,  or  sail,  or  Evening  Star 
Be  half  so  fair  as  she  ? 

Tell  me  thou  gallant  cavalier, 
Whose  shining  arms  I  see. 

If  steed,  or  sword  or  battle  field 
Can  charm  thy  soul  as  she  ? 

Tell  me  thou  noble  hunter 
O'er  rock  and  hill  and  lea 

If  stately  buck  or  gende  doe 
Be  half  so  fair  as  she  ? 


142  THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME. 


'TIS    MARY   LEADS   MY   THOUGHTS 

ASTRAY. 

(from    the   SPANISH). 

NAY!  Shepherd,  nay!  thou  art  unwary — 
Thy  flocks  are  wandering  far  away." 
"Alas!  I  know  it  well — 'tis  Mary 
Who  leads  my  troubled  thoughts  astray. ' ' 

"  Look,  Shepherd!  look — how  far  they  rove! 
Why  so  forgetful?  call  them  yet." 

"  O !  he  who  is  forgot  by  love, 

Will  soon,  too  soon,  all  else  forget." 
"  Come  leave  those  thoughts  so  dark  and  dreary. 
And  with  your  browsing  flocks  be  gay." 

"Alas,  no!  'tis  vain,  'tis  vain, — Mary 

Leads  all  my  troubled  thoughts  astray." 

"  'Tis  love  then.  Shepherd!  O,  depart, 
And  drive  away  the  cheating  boy." 

"Alas!  he's  seated  in  my  heart. 

And  rules  it  with  tumultuous  joy." 
"  Nay!  Shepherd,  wake  thee,  dare  not  tarry, 
For  thou  art  in  a  thorny  way." 

"Ah,  no!  'tis  vain,  'tis  vain,— for  Mary 

Leads  all  my  troubled  thoughts  astray." 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  143 

"  Throw  off  this  yoke,  young  Shepherd,  be 
Joyous  and  mirthsome  as  before." 

"  O  what  are  mirth  and  joy  to  me  ? 

They  on  my  woes  no  joy  can  pour." 
"  Thou  did'st  refuse  to  dance,  did'st  tarry. 
When  laughing  maidens  were  at  play." 

"  I  know  I  did — alas  'tis  Mary 

That  leads  my  troubled  thoughts  astray." 

"Then  tell  thy  love — perchance  'tis  hid — 

And  send  a  missive  scribbled  o'er."  — 
"Alas!  my  friend — I  did,  I  did, — 
Which,  ere  the  maid  had  read,  she  tore," 

"  Then  hang  the  maid — the  foul  fiend  carry 

A  pestilence  through  all  her  flocks." 
"O  no,  forbear! — nor  threaten  Mary 
With  sorrow's  frowns,  nor  misery's  shocks." 


"BY    HER   NAME   I    HAVE   CALLED 

THEE."=== 

(from    the    ITALIAN    OF    GINTIO    CARCANS). 

SLEEP,  sleep,  sleep!  my  little  girl. 
Mother  is  near  thee:    Sleep,  unfurl, 
Thy  veil  o'er  the  cradle  where  baby  lies! 
Dream  baby,  of  angels  in  the  skies! 


*  The  name  of  the  Madonna— Mary. 


144  ^-^^  UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

On  the  sorrowful  earth  in  hopeless  quest 
Passes  the  exile  without  rest. 
Wherever  he  goes  in  sun  or  snow 
Trouble  and  pain  beside  him  go, 

But  when  I  look  upon  thy  sleep, 
And  hear  thy  breathing  soft  and  deep, 
My  soul  turns  with  a  faith  serene 
To  days  of  sorrow  that  have  been; 
And  I  feel  that  of  love  and  happiness 
Heaven  has  given  my  life  excess: 
The  Lord  in  His  mercy  gave  me  thee 
And  thou  in  truth  art  part  of  me. 
Thou  know' St  not  as  I  bend  above  thee 
How  much  I  love  thee,  how  much  I  love  thee; 
Thou  art  the  very  life  of  my  heart. 
Thou  art  my  joy,  my  life,  my  smart! 
Thy  day  begins  uncertain,  child. 
Thou  art  a  blossom  in  the  wild, 
But  over  thee  with  his  wings  abroad, 
Blossom,  watches  the  angel  of  God. 

And  over  thee  my  own  delight, 

Watches  that  Sweet  Mother  day  and  night, 

To  whom  the  exiles  consecrate 

Alter  and  heart  in  every  fate. 

By  Her  name,  I  have  called  my  little  girl, 

But  on  life's  sea  in  the  tempest's  whirl 

Thy  hapless  father,  my  darling,  may. 

Only  tremble,  and  only  pray. 


THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 


145 


NATIONAL   RUSSIAN   SONG   TO    MARY. 

(translated    by    sir    JOHN    BOWRING,    F.    L.    s). 

NOISY  nightingale!  be  still, 
Hear' St  thou  not  the  sweeter  thrill 
Of  my  Mary, 
Of  my  Fairy, 
From  the  cottage  ?  through  the  trees 
Born  on  breath  of  western  breeze  ? 

As  the  skylark  from  her  height. 
Midst  the  dews  of  opening  light 

Sweetly  singeth, 

Joy  upspringeth 
From  the  heart  that  song  to  hear 
So  I  love  thy  voice,  my  dear. 

Turn  I  towards  the  window-seat — 
Give  me  one  soft  glance  my  sweet! 

Kind  is  Mary, 

Kind  my  fairy. 
Joyous  as  a  summer's  day 
In  the  mildest  smile  of  May. 

Then  her  heart  its  folds  unveils, 
And  she  sings  its  secret  tales: 

Gently  flowing. 

Mildly  glowing, 


146  THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

O  how  sweetly  falls  the  strain! 
O  how  fascinating  then! 

When  upon  the  harpsicord, 
Music  leads  the  mournful  word 
And  the  spirit 
Sighs  to  hear  it, 
Led  by  her  in  willing  chain — 
Who  was  ever  like  her  then  ? 

Who  ?     Two  Marys  can  not  be, 
Mary!  life's  sweet  witchery! 
Mary!  bless  me, 
And  caress  me; 
Kings  might  envy,  for  thou  art, 
Mary!  thou,  my  heart  of  heart. 

Peace!  she  sighs — thou  window  fly 
Open;  let  me  drink  her  sigh, 
Glowing,  blushing, 
Thither  rushing 
Could  I  steal  one  rapturous  kiss — 
Sing  sweet  bird!  thy  song  of  bliss. 


THE   UNIVERSAL   NAME.  147 


MARY'S   EYES  — OR   THE   FORTUNE 

TELLER. 

(from    the   modern    greek    by    GEORGE    DROSINES). 

<  <  TV  T  OW  tell  me  aged  Sorceress,  who  dost  all  fortunes  know, 

1   i      What  good,  what  ill-fate  shall  be  mine,  as  through 

the  world  I  go  ?  " 

"  My  boy  ere  thou  of  twenty  years  shalt  be  a  stripling  brave, 

Thou  for  a  little  nut-brown  maid,  and  for  her  charms  shall 

rave: 
The  blooming  springtide  of  thy  youth  to  her  shall  fully  give. 
But  she,  shall  all  thy  passion's  glow,  with  this  alone  repay, 
That  she  shall  steal  the  happiness  of  thy  whole  life  away." 

"  The  first  came  true  indeed,  and  thee,  little  one  I  adore, 
But  for  the  old  wife's  other  words,  I   ne'er  will  trust  them 

more, 
Since  unto  me  of  love  and  joy  give  surer  prophecies — 
Other  dark  sorceresses  twain — they,  Mary,  are  thine  eyes." 

Trans,  by  F.  M.  McPherson. 


148  THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME. 


MARY   WASHINGTON. 

O'ER  this  bright  galexy  of  Marys  fair, 
One  towers  above  them  all,  beyond  compare, 
A  patriot  soul — great  in  herself. 
And  greater  in  her  son, 
Need  we  to  name  her? — Washington. 

E.  V.  B. 


HOMAGE   TO    MARY   WASHINGTON. 

This  is  a  first  incompleted  draught  of  the  long  poem  written  by 
Mrs.  Lydia  H.  Sigourney  on  the  occasion  of  the  laying  of  tlie 
corner-stone  of  the  Monument  to  the  mother  of  President  George 
Washington,  at  Fredericksburg,  by  President  Jackson,  May,  7,  1833. 

"  \  A  T^E  come 

V  Y       To  do  thee  homage,  Mother  of  our  chief. 
Fit  honor — such  as  honoreth  him  who  pays: — 
Methinks  we  see  thee  as  in  olden  time, 
Simple  in  garb,  majestic  and  serene, 
Unmoved  by  pomp  and  circumstance;  in  truth 
Inflexible,  and  with  a  Spartan  zeal. 
*         *         *      For  the  might  that  clothed 
The  '  Pater  Patriae,'  for  the  glorious  deeds 


THE   UNIVERSAL  NAME.  149 

That  make  Mount  Vernon's  tomb  a  Mecca  shrine 
To  all  the  earth,  these  to  thee  are  due. 

Rise  sculptured  pile! 
And  show  a  race  unborn  who  rests  below 
And  earned  a  monument, 
Should  rise  above  the  stars!  " 


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